The Art of Deception
by morestorii
Summary: The rules are simple: Fool the circus, fool the press, and fool the Bat himself. So, yes, it's pretty simple... or is it? -AU, potential slash, Reverse!BatFam-
1. Chapter 1

_He's on high alert after he feels the hairs rise up on the back of his neck. There's a tingling in the back of his mind and he just knows that someone's watching him. He points his grappling hook at the rooftop of the neighboring building he's on._

 _The logical part of him is saying to call for backup or just report the feeling. There's another part of him that forces his lips to stay shut as he continues going about his normal nightly business. He swallows as he propels himself up. For a moment, he thinks he's safe._

 _And then he hears the call of his name. He breaks out into a run. He's scared and he knows that staying here would equal out to trouble._

 _He jumps._

~•••~

Wallace Rudolph West is a very tired and very hungry senior. It's really late. He has his backpack on (it's filled with papers and books) and he's wandering around for a place to eat. Too many places were closed since it was two a.m. but he really wants something in his stomach.

Of course, he can eat at home. He has a decent amount of food and his parents are both out of town on a vacation. There's just something about staring and fussing over papers and books that makes one want a change of scenery.

Then he sees it. It's a 24 Hour café and he silently praises whatever high deities there may be. He pushes the door open (the little ding-a-ling of a bell sounds above him) and abruptly stops. He swallows hard and tries to keep his composure.

As expected, there's an employee. He's probably the only one working at the ungodly hour since the place seems silent aside from a quiet static from a television attached to the wall. The boy is mopping up the floor, immersed in his own world.

He looks young. The employee has a small build buried in a big black sweatshirt and washed out jeans with a red apron on top. His hair is black and wild. Blue eyes seem to be made of glass as they focus on the swirls of water being pushed around on the floor.

Wally has a feeling that the employee is distracted. The boy hadn't even looked up when Wally's arrival was signaled by the small bell. The speedster clears his throat.

"H-hey," Wally says, stepping closer when he regained the ability to move.

Immediately, the boy's head snaps toward Wally. The meta is stricken with a wave of déjà vu. Saying nothing, the boy grips the mop's handle a little tighter as he watches Wally with those oceanic eyes.

"You working the night shift?" Wally asks, scratching his cheek. The whole atmosphere is awkward and a little tense.

The boy raises his brows and nods his head towards something on the wall. It's a clock. "No, really?" he retorts. He leans the mop against a table and wipes his hands on his apron. Grabbing a notepad, he makes his way over to Wally and motions for the ginger to sit at one of the booths.

Wally picks up a menu, looking over it while giving minute glances at his apparent waiter. "I'll have a large iced tea and five cheesesteak subs—oh, and some fries."

Without batting an eyelash, the order is written down and a pencil is placed behind the boy's ear. "On it." The boy goes behind the counter and disappears into the door to the kitchen. Wally watches as the door shudders to a close before he pulls his bag onto his lap.

He takes a deep breath and pulls out a few papers to delve into his schoolwork. His parents wouldn't tolerate his slacking if they were home. He's glad they aren't honestly. He's so busy patrolling and training and trying to study and cram it all in his mind.

A few minutes later, the boy emerges with the order on one big plate. He places it on the clear spot of Wally's table and the ginger smiles at him. The food smells as amazing as it looks. He finds it hard to not drool all over his papers.

"What's your name?"

The boy points to his breast pocket. There's a tag on it and Wally wonders how he didn't see it earlier. He reads the name silently in his mind.

"Gardner LaRou?"

The boy doesn't reply for a few seconds. His nose twitches a little. "That's what it says, right? And for the record, it's pronounced 'luh-roo'."

He turns around and goes back to mopping. Gardner seems to return to his distracted state as he aimlessly swirls the mop around. Wally tries to pour all his focus into eating and finishing his papers.

It's kind of hard though, Wally thinks. It's hard to focus when a stranger has the same face as someone who should be dead.

Still sparing him minute glances, Wally eats and works. Every single similarity is brushed off as a mere coincidence. It's been two years and the meta knows he should move on. Everyone else has.

~•••~

Wally's parents are still gone three nights later. He wonders when exactly they'll return as he makes the decision to go back to the café. After all, the peaceful ambience and good food sounds promising. It's one a.m. this time but he's hungry and frustrated.

He pushes the door open and smiles at the sound of small bells. Gardner's there too. Instead of mopping, he's sitting at the counter and staring at the television. There's nothing but static and Wally finds himself being reminded of his Kryptonian teammate.

Gardner's wearing another black sweatshirt that juxtaposes Wally's bright yellow sweatshirt. He ambles over and he watches Gardner watch him.

"You're back," the employee notes.

"And you're still here."

It's quick and disappears in a millisecond but Wally noticed Gardner's lip twitch at one corner. There's no negativity in those blue eyes though so the speedster assumes that he did not offend the boy or something. "That I am," he replies. "Same thing as last time?"

Wally hums out of frustration. He's thinking about what he wants. "Do you have chicken salad sandwiches?"

"No," Gardner says and the speedster frowns. "We have the ingredients though. If you want, I can make some."

"If it's not too much trouble," Wally says with a smile. "Anything's cool with me."

Gardner nods and disappears behind the door. Wally decides to sit where Gardner sat him last time. He pulls out a binder and a thick textbook. He flips to a page and opens up the binder to a clean sheet of lined paper.

There's something about AP Calculus that really frustrates him. Wally's a science whiz and he doesn't really enjoy math even though it comes with the territory. He's able to work out the first few problems in the span of a few minutes but one has him stumped. Knowing himself, Wally supposes that he should pay attention to the teacher more.

And he also berates himself for asking to be recommended for an AP class.

The ginger isn't sure how many minutes passed but suddenly there's an explosion of scents. He sees a plate of chicken salad sandwiches (fifteen to be exact) with a small macaroni salad and iced tea. His mouth waters and he looks up at Gardner to thank him for going the extra mile.

The boy is staring at Wally's textbook and then at the lined paper and back to the book from hell. Wally can't read his expression because it's more blank than his mind mulling over the question. He assumes it to be a confused affect.

"AP Calculus," Wally says, hoping to clear up any confusion. "I don't really get it either."

"Parameter equals nine over four," Gardner says in a monotone voice.

Wally raises his brows. "Excuse me?"

"The slope of the tangent is equal to three," Gardner replies. "You want to write"—he scribbles down an equation—"this equation. Then solve 2x equals 3 if you want to find the x-coordinate of tangency. I think you can work it out from there."

Wally blinks, nodding along. "Oh. That… oh. Thanks." With what Gardner explained, the entire problem was starting to make sense in his mind.

"Hm."

Gardner returns to his spot behind the counter and Wally finishes his homework after prodding the boy for some hints whenever he had gotten stuck. He was quick to eat his meal, dropping the money on the counter and walking towards the door. He pulls it open and places one foot out the door.

Wally turns his head and grins at the boy behind the counter. Gardner doesn't react. "Thank you," Wally says.

He leaves and door closes behind him. Gardner watches the door for a few minutes before he brings his attention to the static on the television. He drums his fingernails against the material of the counter as he leans against it.

~•••~

This time it's three a.m. and Wally could really use some good food. He's actually done with all of homework but he spent the past few hours outside in some desert and he's really hungry. Instead of sneaking downstairs for food, he sneaks out to the café. It's probably his seventh time eating at the café at odd hours.

He keeps coming back.

And every time he was graced with Gardner's presence. The boy was always looking tired and wearing dark colored clothes. Wally always wonders if Gardner was hot under all the long sleeves and long pants. He voices his thoughts but Gardner never replies.

This time, Wally is seated at the counter on a stool. He isn't directly in front of Gardner because he didn't want to have to stare at that face. Gardner seems more interested in the television static than any other form of life anyway.

"I've never seen you around school," Wally says randomly. "Do you go to Central?"

Gardner spares him a glance before looking away. "I graduated early."

"... How old are you?" Wally looks over Gardner. Honestly, the boy couldn't be any older than fifteen or sixteen. He was definitely smart though if he had been able to solve a college level calculus question in just a few seconds.

Gardner says nothing. Wally laughs uneasily.

"You don't have to—"

"How old do you think I am?"

It's an odd question but not by much. Wally hesitates for a moment, wondering which guess he should voice.

Say sixteen, his mind says. Wally finds himself saying the number. After all, that's how old _he_ would be by now. It's hard for Wally to ignore the similarities but he knows that the similarities are why he kept coming back.

"Sixteen," Gardner repeats in a monotone voice. "You think I'm sixteen."

"Yes?"

Gardner's lip twitches at the corner again. "You're right."

The confirmation makes Wally light up. He's a little torn inside. Gardner seems to have yet another similarity to _him._ Despite that, he grins and decides to get to know the boy behind the counter more. "Really? Sweet," he says. "When's your birthday?"

"Wally West, you should be mindful about what you ask strangers," Gardner admonishes.

He's about to reply but something stops him. His brows furrow in confusion and he raises a brow at Gardner. "How did you—"

"I saw it on your homework in that chicken scratch of yours."

Wally's cheeks flush a burning pink that goes from ear to ear. "My handwriting isn't that bad."

Gardner snorts. "I bet your teacher's mistake your penmanship for scribbles."

"Stop being right," he mumbles.

"Who says I've never been wrong?" Gardner replies. He points to his left cheek. "You got a little something here."

The speedster grabs a napkin and dabs his cheek. There's a bit of marinara sauce because instead of a chicken salad sandwich or a cheesesteak sub, he had a few meatball subs. "Thanks."

The boy behind the counter hums in reply. As per usual, he continues to stare at the crackling salt and pepper on the screen many feet away. Wally chugs down the remainder of his iced tea and pops a chunk of bread into his mouth. After all this time, Gardner has yet to comment on those eating habits.

"Oh, thanks for the help on math homework last night," Wally says, recalling the second time Gardner helped him with calculus. "I understand the material perfectly now."

"That's good."

"Yeah."

Wally feels awkward so he throws two crisp bills on the counter and nods thankfully at Gardner. He bids him adieu and walks out the door. In the back of his mind, Wally absently wonders if asking for one's birthday is really that personal.

~•••~

It's Wally's tenth or so visit to the café at yet another unholy hour of the night. As expected, Gardner is behind the counter. For once, the boy is wearing a white button up with the usual red apron on top. It looks like he's suffering in the harmless piece of clothing.

And for Wally, it's the first time he has a newspaper in his hands. Thankful for the vacancy of the area, he marches forward and slams the paper down on the counter. Gardner startles and looks down at the paper in confusion.

"Is... is something wrong?" Gardner asks, watching Wally behind a metaphorical mask. The older teen seems outraged and helpless and a plethora of tumultuous emotions.

Yes, yes there's something wrong. He had been eating dinner with his parents when his father decided to show Wally the morning paper. Wally flipped through it before he grabbed his plate and the paper and disappeared into his room.

"Haly's Circus is going to close its doors," Wally says. "... Tent? Whatever. It's closing."

He opens it and there's a picture of a circus tent, an old man in a ringmaster get-up, and a poster that Wally finds so very familiar.

"Okay?"

Wally clears his throat. "My best friend is Richard Grayson," he says, watching as Gardner eyes the paper curiously. "He was a part of this circus before being taken in by billionaire Bruce Wayne. He disappeared about two years ago, just a few days after his birthday and there's been no trace of him and the speculation is that he's dead. I... I can't let this circus shut down. He wouldn't want that."

Gardner tilts his head a bit, his lips curving downwards in a small frown. "Okay, and?"

"You look exactly like him," Wally blurts out. "I crave a boon and I'll do anything."

The café boy looks dubious and cautious. He thinks he knows where this is going. "What boon?"

"I need you to pretend to be Richard Grayson."

* * *

Okie dokie, so, the line breaks signal the end of the chapter (or the beginning) and the three dots are just to separate different points in the chapter. :3 Italicized paragraphs take place in a different time but a mere line or single word is just for emphasis.

I do not and never will own _Young Justice_ or anything related to the universe or its characters. The idea of a "dead ringer" came from Michelle Jaffe's _Ghost Flower._ Whether or not you choose to read that is none of my business.

Feel free to drop any questions in the review box. :) If you have any questions regarding my other YJ story (or the ones that have been deleted) you can ask those too and I'll try to address them. I'm warning you now that you should expect random updates.

Added Notes: Reverse!BatFamily, eventual slash in the very far future (don't worry no focus on romance), a few OCs (no Mary Sues and 99% are minor characters)


	2. Chapter 2

_Garbed in his usual suit for the nightly persona, he jumps onto the next rooftop. He surveys the area before looking back at the small screen. According to his piece of technology, his partner was last recorded to be on this rooftop._

 _He looks around, eyes narrowed out of suspicion and caution. He approaches a shadowed corner with exercised caution and finds no sign of life. Sparing a glance downwards, he sees broken pieces that seem very familiar to him since they were of his design._

 _Picking up a small shard of metal and plastic, he scowls and turns around. His cape flares dramatically as he puts a finger to where his ear is under the cowl._

 _"Batman to Robin," he says. "Do you hear me?"_

 _There's nothing but static in his ear._

•••

Bruce Wayne steps close to the trailer belong to the ringmaster of Haly's Circus. After receiving a letter from the old man (weeks prior to today), he invited the old man for one final show in the cruel city of Gotham. He knocks on the door and waits for it to swing open.

He steps back in time to avoid getting hit by the door. An aged man is standing inside, smiling kindly at him. "Ah, Mr. Wayne," he says. "Pleasure to see you again."

"The pleasure's all mine, Mr. Haly," Bruce replies. He looks around and asks if he can step inside. The old man is happy to oblige, stepping aside and gesturing for the tall man to enter.

Bruce does so quickly and shuts the door behind him. As soon as it's closed, he frowns. "Are you really going through with it?"

"I am," the ringmaster says in a tired voice. "I want to look for Dick and managing a circus will only hold me back. Besides, it's about time my troop and I settle down."

"You're not settling down though," Bruce points out. Haly cracks a smile as he seats himself in a rickety looking chair.

"I just want to know that Dick's safe and sound," Haly says. "I know he's out there."

The billionaire purses his lips and clears his throat. "Believe me, I want to believe that he's still alive. I've done everything I could to locate him."

The ringmaster looks away from Bruce's piercing stare. "I know, I know. You even got the Justice League in on it from what I've heard."

"I'm hoping that... if Dick somehow hears about this, he'll come to see the show. This circus was and is his first home," Bruce says. "Knowing him, he wouldn't let it just close."

"He would never," Haly agrees. "This circus was his life and blood when he was with us."

Bruce nods because it's true. He knew Richard Grayson gave everything he could to the circus and would never allow the circus to be disbanded. "I hope you don't mind if my boys and I watch the show."

"Of course not. You've done so much for this circus and one last show is the least I can do to repay you." That is also very true. Bruce paid for the circus to come to Gotham, Bruce took in a member of the circus when they were unable to care for the orphaned acrobat, Bruce (as Batman but no one needs to know that) brought justice to the circus when Tony Zucco was placed behind bars.

Moving on to a more upbeat topic, Bruce and Haly discuss the performance and the date for that very performance. The show will be a homage to Richard John "Dick" Grayson and his family. This show will hopefully bring back the boy who went missing two years ago.

It's an hour later that Bruce excuses himself and leaves. He's going to be late for a meeting if he doesn't pick up the pace. He hurries off into his car. He starts the engine and takes a moment to look at one of the pictures he had dangling from the rear view mirror.

The picture is of a grinning noir-haired boy with bright blue eyes. He's holding up a peace sign as he stares directly into the camera with a lopsided party hat. It was taken on his fourteenth birthday, just days before he disappeared.

Bruce heaves a sigh as he pulls out of the lot and drives towards Wayne Tech. Thoughts of his missing ward disappear into the back of his mind so that he can focus on driving. After all, it's a definite setback if the Bat himself gets into a car accident.

He gets a phone call once he's on the highway. He swallows down a complaint and presses a touch screen that allows his car to take the call. He gives a greeting as he keeps his eyes trained on the road and hands in the proper positioning on the wheel.

 _"_ _Father_ _."_

"Damian," Bruce says, recognizing the voice of his blood son. "Did you need something?"

 _"_ _As a matter of fact, Father, I do."_ A pause and a shuffle. _"I've noticed that Grayson's room has been locked and I do not wish to pick the lock. Where can I find the key?_ _"_

"Have you tried asking Alfred?" Bruce asks as he eases on the break to come to a steady stop. "He's at the manor, isn't he?"

A _tt. "_ _He told me to ask you since you were the one who hid the key."_ Another pause _. "Why did you lock up the room anyway?_ _"_

"Check the desk in my study," he says, pressing on the gas pedal. He hears a door opening in the mansion.

 _"_ _You never answered my question, Father,"_ Damian says. _"_ _Why did you lock Grayson's room?_ _"_

"Why do you want to go in Dick's room?"

A pause. _"_ _I wish to... have a moment in a place with his memory_ _."_

"There are plenty of places you can do that."

A snort. _"_ _That may be true, Father, but there is a chance that something in that room that may give us a clue as to where he is._ _"_

Bruce narrows his eyes and makes a right turn. "I've searched through every single one of his belongings and I've found nothing."

 _"_ _I still want to look,_ _"_ Damian says, hanging up. Bruce sighs with a shake of his head and makes a left turn.

•••

Damian has a key in his hand. He found it taped on the underside of a drawer in Bruce's desk. He has a sneaking suspicion that his father had no faith that his young ward would be found. Or he just really wanted to stay out of Dick's room.

He sticks the key in the keyhole and twists it. He's able to grab the doorknob and pushed the door open. He feels a distinct air hitting him as soon as he enters. It's clear that not even Alfred was able to get inside and clean the room from the dust particles that flew into the air.

Waving one hand, he flicks on a light switch. Dick's room is probably in the same exact condition it was left in two years ago. There are a few articles of clothing strewn about and some papers on the desk in the corner. He ambles over to the bed and sits down, sinking into the plush mattress.

The room has a very faint scent that must've gotten lost over the long two years. Damian scowls, wondering when exactly Dick will be found. He may not be a doting brother but he has a soft spot for the youngest member of the Bat Family. He just knows there is hope that Dick is still alive.

He gets up and pulls the closer open. Shades of blue and green and yellow and red glare back at him as he pushes them aside. He presses his hand against a part of the wall and a small compartment opens. He pulls out one of Robin's uniforms from the hidden spot.

He drops the suit, holding the belt in his hands. "Father told me that Grayson's belt must have been smashed," he says out loud. Batman found fragments of the front clasp of Robin's utility belt on the rooftop that was the location of Robin's last known coordinates.

The belt is the only accessory with a tracking device inside of it. After all, it is a rule to never leave home without one's belt.

Batman theorized that Robin had taken off his belt, smashed it against the ground, and put it back on. It didn't make sense though because Robin would have never done that. If Robin were in trouble, he would have called for back-up that night.

And he never did.

Damian sighs and places the uniform and belt back in the hidden compartment with careful hands. He hears the door being pushed open a bit more and turns his head.

"It's quite dusty in here, Master Damian," Alfred Pennyworth says. The British man makes an odd face as he looks around some more. "This was Master Richard's room."

"It's not my problem," Damian mumbles. "And it _is_ Grayson's room. Stop treating him like he's dead."

"... Apologies, Master Damian. Shall I prepare some tea?"

The blood son of Batman gives a curt nod as he walks past Alfred in a dismissive manner. "Brown sugar instead of white and a wedge of lemon."

"Certainly."

The butler notices the key still in the keyhole when he steps out to shut the door. He looks at it and then takes it, stuffing it into his pocket carefully. He'll need it if he is going to clean up the room later.

•••

Damian is absently stirring his tea downstairs in the Batcave. Alfred is with him, cleaning up any bat guano he found laying around. Both men say nothing as they go about whatever it is they are doing.

The hero of Blüdhaven is on the computer, looking around random files to ease his boredom. "Pennyworth?"

"Yes, Master Damian?"

"Do you believe that Grayson disappeared of his own freewill?" Damian inquires, genuinely curious about what the butler would say. "Why would Father believe Grayson would smash the only means available of tracking him?"

Alfred pauses in his cleaning to give the questions some thought. "I do not know what went through Master Richard's head that night," he says because it's true. "Master Bruce knows Master Richard would not let anyone near that belt you know."

Damian grits his teeth and sips on the tea. The water is now lukewarm and he feels rather cheated and not-so-pleased about the temperature. "I suppose you have a point." He cranes his head just a little bit to get a better look at the British butler. "When will the others arrive?"

"Tomorrow Masters Terrence and Timothy will be arriving together because it will be more convenient," Alfred informs the blood son. "Master Jason hasn't specified a specific date but I assume it will be soon."

"Great," Damian murmurs. "I'll have to deal with a bunch of imbeciles by the end of the week."

"Master Damian, they're only here for the same reason as you: to see that performance."

Resisting the urge to scowl, Damian lifts the cup to his lips and begins to slowly empty its content into his stomach. The tea tastes cold against the back of his throat and it's disgusting to him. Alfred continues the usual routine of monotony.

* * *

Are there any typos or mistakes? I apologize if they are. I haven't slept a wink and I wrote all this with my sleep-deprived brain. I was able to pick up on a few mistakes and correct them tho. :3

Ahhh, thank you all so much for the support you've shown my story! I honestly have no idea where I'm going with this.

 _rose and 10_ has asked if Gardner is Dick. Who knows? No, seriously, who knows? Besides, where's the fun in knowing whether he's Dick or not? The whole point of the game is to fool everyone. :0 And _GalaxyWolf2.0_ , maybe the BatFam will fall for it, maybe they won't.

Who do you want to see next chapter? Do you wanna see Gardner's response or maybe one of the Bat brothers? What might have happened to Dick, can you guess? Any other questions?


	3. Chapter 3

_The words of his mentor echo in his earpiece. He pauses in his run and yanks it out, throwing it on the ground. He crushes it with his foot, taking pleasure at the audible crack and a small crackle of electricity._

 _He can't hear anything outside of the city's nightlife. Fear and paranoia twist his insides when he senses the footsteps. They're silent but they're there and he knows it. It's enough to send him hurtling himself at another building and falling downwards._

 _He grabs the top ledge of a window and kicks in harshly, cracking the glass and shattering it. He gets a cut on a bare part of his arm and wonders why he hasn't switched to more seasonally appropriate clothes. The chilly air is just adding to the goosebumps he feels._

 _Someone's watching._

 _Something cold touches his cheek before it's gone in a split second. He flounders in his escape, taking a moment to acknowledge the first snowfall of the month. He swallows and keeps running._

•••

"We're here," Terry McGinnis said with a small smile. "We're home."

Tim Drake shakes his head. "My home is with the Titans," he says. He picks up his large duffel bag. "Come on, I'm pretty sure Damian already beat us to the punch."

Both boys carry one bag. After all, Wayne Manor was their home once so everything they behind is still there for them to use. They push open the gates after punching in a security code and they start up the path, hearing the metal gates swing shut. As always, the property is beautifully maintained thanks to Alfred Pennyworth and some landscaping crews once in a while.

"I don't remember the last time I was here," Tim says when they near the fountain. It's a lie and he knows it. The last time he was here was two years ago when Dick was having a birthday party and then a few days after when the family was searching for the missing acrobat.

Terry knows Tim lied but he offers no argument. "I come here every few weeks," he says. "It's nice to have a constant when you're moving from country to country every other week."

"I don't understand how you can stand all that moving around," Tim tells him in all sincerity. He seldom leaves the country or even the city he claimed for himself and his team. "It must be fun though."

The older of the two boys (that would be Terry), shrugs. "I want to go everywhere," he admits. "I only come back because of Bruce—Alfred too, of course."

Tim laughs and gives his surrogate older brother a teasing smirk. "You mean Alfred's cookies."

"Those are good too."

Both of them are trying to avoid mentioning the reason they were all gathering at the manor. It's just another reminder that they're stuck in a never-ending game of hide-and-seek with a boy who may or may not be dead by now. They lost enough already and there was no need to remind them of someone else they have lost.

It takes a few more seconds for them to reach the porch. Terry reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key ring. There are various keys connected to it and Tim has to wonder how his brother could keep track of which key belonged to which lock. In less than five seconds, Terry sticks one key inside the keyhole and twists it and the doorknob.

The large oak door swings open and Terry steps inside. Tim follows, looking around to see just how much has changed. He expects for there to be a subtle difference and there is. It's kind of unnerving though because he has a feeling that it's due to the fact that Dick Grayson is no longer residing in the large house.

"I'm home!" Terry bellows, startling Tim just a little bit. "Timmy's here too!"

"Don't call me that," the younger adult admonishes.

The wayward son of Batman gives him a teasing half-smile. "Loosen up, Wonder Boy."

"It's Red Wonder," Tim replies, giving him a little shove that does nothing.

Both of them turn their heads when they heard footsteps approaching. Alfred stands in one doorway with a smile on his aging face. His suit is free of wrinkles and dust as he opens his arms for a warm embrace. Both males drop their belongings and give the butler a small hug.

"How was Austria, Master Terrence?" Alfred asks, stepping out of the hug. "And you, Master Timothy, how has Jump City been treating you these past two years?"

Terry shrugs. "Same old, same old. The routine's the same wherever I go: fight crime, go sightseeing, fight more crime." He looks sheepish. "That reminds me, do you think you could try your hand at some Austrian dishes? I have a few recipes and they were great."

"Certainly, sir," Alfred says, pairing his words with a kind smile. He looks at Tim. "So, Master Timothy?"

Tim picks up his bag and swings the strap over his shoulder. "I've been busy. Of course, I'm taking time off to enjoy... the performance." His mouth twists weirdly. "What day will it be?"

"The performance will be taking place at sundown next Friday," a sharp voice says, inserting its owner into the conversation. "I see you made it in one piece, McGinnis, Drake."

"Hello to you too, Damian," Tim remarks dryly. "So, we have over a week."

Damian gives a curt nod, standing taller to assert dominance even though he's only the second oldest in the family. He explains to them that Bruce had called a few minutes prior just to inform him of the date. It would give the circus time to perfect their act and give the family time to talk before everyone went his own separate way again.

Alfred invites them to the kitchen to have a few snacks. Terry is quick to agree while Tim says he wants to put his bag in his room. He walks up the stairs, finding a nice sense of familiarity as he roams through the halls. He easily finds his room. The silly little sign with his name on it is lopsided.

The sign is just a piece of card stock with yarn attached to it. When Dick was around six or seven, he decided to make signs for the rooms belonging to the occupants of the house since he was still getting lost. Like his adoptive brothers, Tim never took the sign off.

He twists the knob and the door opens smoothly without creaking. He snorts, figuring Alfred must definitely still oil every hinge on a bi-weekly basis. He flicks on a switch and tosses his bag on the bed.

He's surprised to see that the room is spotless. Then again, Alfred never allowed a room to become coated in layers and layers of dust. The old butler most likely hoped that Tim would come back for even just a few hours.

He never did though.

Tim sighs and turns off the light, wondering why he bothered turning it on in the first place. His stomach makes a small growl and he figures it's about time he has a small snack to hold him off until dinner. He makes his way back down.

•••

It's now dinner time and all three males are sitting at the long dining room table. Alfred is in the kitchen, finishing up the meal preparations. The boys wait patiently for Bruce to come back from work.

A few minutes later, Bruce walks in with his suit jacket thrown over his shoulder and his hair is just a tad bit disheveled. "Am I late?"

"As you can see, we haven't started eating yet," Damian says, gesturing to the clean plates and utensils. "I'm impressed you even made it to the table before the food did, Father."

"Good evening to you as well, Damian."

Tim snorts and gives Bruce a small smile. "It's been a while."

"It has," Bruce agrees. He looks at all three boys. "Has Jason arrived yet?"

All three shake heads at the same time. Alfred enters the room with a tray and gives Bruce his greetings while setting down the food. "I believe Master Jason will arrive around tomorrow night."

Bruce reaches for a bowl of mashed potatoes and spoons some of it onto his plate. "That's good to hear," he says. He puts the bowl back and reaches for some greens to pile near his potatoes.

"So, Bruce, did the press manage to corner you?" Tim inquires as he slices into some steak. He seems a bit amused at the idea.

The billionaire isn't surprised that Tim managed to figure it out. "They've been harassing me about the circus," he tells them. "They kept asking for details about Dick."

Everyone in the room goes silent. Alfred frowns but he returns to the kitchen, making an offhand comment about how he'll eat his supper there. The attention is turned back to Bruce as he lets out a sigh.

"Reporters are absolutely barbaric," Damian says in an annoyed voice. "Tt. I swear, they can be worse than criminals."

Terry tries to defuse the ignited bomb that was planted in the blood son. "Now, now," he says, "they just want to know about Dick."

"Right," Tim says. "Reporters are just curious."

Damian raises his brows and points his butter knife lazily at them both. He ignores Bruce's warning to keep the fights down in the training room. "They're inconsiderate and are only looking to make money and cause trouble."

Bruce looks at his son. "One of Dick's best friends' aunt is a reporter."

"My bad," Damian replies but he doesn't sound very sincere.

The conversation takes a plunge and the topic is dropped. The air in the room is a little tense and the new topics of conversation include the weather, hero business, life in general, and the food. All the conversations are a little stilted since all the males had shaky relationships with each other.

An hour later, they all retreat to their respective rooms. Bruce gives an open invitation to join him on patrol. Damian is the only one to decline since he decides to use a zeta tube to patrol his own city during his stay. The other two boys shrug and tell the man that he can expect company at a later time.

* * *

Hmm... good thing this is an AU, right? I have nothing planned for this story. :P I'm definitely taking suggestions. ;)

So, I've definitely written the Bat boys differently than I usually do. Anywho, speaking of the Bat Fam, nobody aside from Haly and Alfred know they're going to the circus. I wonder how it'll go when Gardner runs into them.

Which makes me wonder how I'll pull it off. If they really want to fool the Bat Fam, the Robin secret will have to be revealed to Gardner. O.o I can always go for the amnesia excuse. And you'll see more to Gardner's personality in the next chapter. I'm almost done writing it. :P I'm trying to give him a lot of room for development.

And don't you wonder what's Gardner's story? :0 Could he really be Dick Grayson? How many of you actually read all this?


	4. Chapter 4

_The snowfall is slowly getting harder. It's mostly dark aside from the cold and dull lighting from flickering lights on run-down buildings. He's getting nowhere and he's getting more scared by the minute._

 _He isn't fearless. Not like Batman, not like everyone else. His trained ears are picking up on the smallest of sounds as he dart across a rooftop. The building's tall and he knows it._

 _Someone's behind him and next to him and in front of him all at once. It's kind of terrifying, really. His breaths are coming out in puffs and he sees the end of the roof. He swallows because he's not entirely sure if there's another building after this one._

 _Nearing the edge, he jumps._

 _He's not very sure if he'll land._

•••

"You're crazy," Gardner says. He frowns, throwing Wally a dry look. "Do you expect anyone to fall for it?"

Wally flushes and he looks away. He balls up his fists and then unclenches one to rake slender fingers through his windswept locks. "Look, I know it's a stupid and risky thing to ask of you but believe me, I can make it work."

Gardner crosses his arms and raises his brows. He's dubious and very concerned about the whole affair. Wally can really see a similarity between how Gardner and Dick hold themselves at this moment. For a second, Wally sees a thirteen-year-old Dick Grayson glaring curiously at him before it fades away like a dream.

"Can you, West?" the boy says, challenging Wally. "You're asking me to do something that could get the both of us in trouble."

"Dude, please," Wally says in a strained voice. "I know my best friend like the back of my hand. You've got the looks and the way you carry yourself. I can help you play the part."

"Do you understand what you're asking me to do?"

Wally nods, looking into ocean blue eyes that carry the depth of the seas. "I do. As long as Bruce Wayne and his sons don't show up, we'll be fine. Please, Gardner, I'm doing this for him."

The ebony-haired teen cracks a smirk and Wally sucks in a breath at that. "You're a riot, West," Gardner says. "I swear, it's like you're in love with the guy."

"I-it's not like that!"

"I believe you," Gardner says and he sounds sarcastic. "Look, West, use your brain if you have one."

" _Excuse me_?"

The depth of those blue eyes disappear and are replaced with a blank appearance and absolutely no substance at all. "Let's say your _friend_ is alive. Let's say he doesn't go to this final performance. According to the media, Grayson is— _was_ —famous. The news of his return will obviously reach the press, right? If it reaches the press then it will most likely reach Grayson's ears. He'll know it was an imposter.

"Let's say he's alive and he does go. He'll be there in the crowds and I'll have done everything for nothing and you get your friend back.

"And let's say your friend's dead—there's a good chance he is, you know. If his death was caused by anyone out there, they'll know whoever was at the circus was an imposter. Maybe they'll alert the press. Who knows? What if he's alive and in the clutches of terrible people? They'll know.

"Oh, and the press. They're annoying. His family will find out. Someone will find out. And what then?" Gardner's eyes narrow at Wally, making the ginger step back an inch. "What then, West?"

The older teen steps up to the counter and looks down at Gardner. He has at least five inches on the sixteen-year-old. Gardner seems surprised by the approach and takes a step back. Wally slams a hand on the counter. "It's a risk we'll have to take. Dick would never let himself be captured and he _is_ alive."

A delicate pitch-colored brow rises. Gardner has a tendency to utilize his brows to convey emotion. His smirk disappears and is replaced with an impressed smile. "I like your spunk," he says. "So"—he cocks his head back a bit—"what's in it for me?"

"I..." Wally rubs the back of his neck and his cheeks heat up. "I don't know."

"That's fine," Gardner says as he begins to untie the apron. He pulls it over his head, folding it neatly over his arm. "I'll do it."

Wally opens his mouth but he flounders for a moment. His eyes are disbelieving. "You will? Are you being serious?"

"We aren't friends," Gardner says, pouring the cold hard truth on Wally even though both boys already know that. "But you and Grayson most definitely are. You're doing this for him, right? If your only solution involves me then I suppose I'll do it."

"You are a life saver," Wally manages to say before a wide grin forms. Gardner is a little worried that the stretching will split Wally's face in two but he doesn't say anything about that.

Instead, he jabs a finger at something in the corner. Wally turns around and his stomach drops a bit when he sees a security camera. "That thing doesn't actually work, right?"

"Of course it does," replies a dry voice. "I'll take care of it though, don't worry. So, should we exchange numbers or...?"

"You'll take care of it?" Wally says, confusion lacing his voice. He narrows his eyes out of suspicion. "Are you... are you going to _hack_ it?"

"Maybe, maybe not. What's it to you?" Gardner asks, leaning forward with a glint in his eyes. "Did your little _friend_ have a penchant for hacking?"

Wally says nothing as he pulls out a crumpled receipt and a pen. Gardner might be a hacker, his mind thinks as he scribbles down his number. It's another freaky similarity between the two.

He hands it to Gardner and the teen's smooth hands claim it. The boy behind the counter tucks the paper into his front pocket and clears his throat. "So..."

"Lessons." Wally swallows. "I'll give you lessons. I-I can teach you about him and how to act like him and everything. We'll come up with a story and all that I guess."

"Sounds like a poorly thought out plan but okay."

"You won't tell anybody, right?"

The newspaper is folded up and handed to Wally. Gardner gives him a small smile before it disappears. "I'll try not to, West."

•••

Wally kicks off his shoes, leaving him in his black socks. He looks around as Gardner smiles a little awkwardly. "Well, this is my apartment."

"It's nice," Wally says, sensing Gardner's discomfort.

It really is nice. The walls are an off-putting white and the floor is a nice hardwood. The furniture is minimum but definitely modern. There are at least three bookshelves filled with books and they're evenly spaced and give a sense of symmetry. There's a sliding glass door that Wally assumes will lead to the balcony.

He's guided to the small kitchen area. There's a small marble island and the counters are spotless. Gardner grabs a banana from the fruit basket along with a pear and he tosses the banana to Wally. The both of them trail off into the living room.

"So, you ready to learn?" Wally asks. He silently wonders if Gardner ever sleeps. It's ten in the morning and he's pretty sure Gardner works an all night shift pretty much every single day. He pulls his backpack onto his lap and empties it on the coffee table that's suspiciously bare aside from a cactus plant in the center of it.

Papers and photos are spilled all over the table. He quickly sorts through it, making a less-than-organized mess. He takes a stack of index cards.

"You sure you can do this?" he asks. "According to the papers, the performance is in ten days. Will you be able to learn all this?"

Gardner taps the side of his head with a lazy and taunting smile. Wally swears he saw a brief smirk as the dark-haired boy takes the index cards. "Eidetic memory," he says. "With a good night's sleep, I can get it crammed into the ol' noodle."

Peeling the banana, Wally watches as Gardner takes a bite of the pear before delving into the mess of index cards. His eyes dart quickly across each one, his lips mumbling silent words that just tumble out. Wally finds the sight to be a little unnerving because Gardner is so startlingly similar and he just cannot get over it.

He looks away, unable to bear the sight for now. He wonders if he's making a mistake. After all, he's trying to fool the man who's grown up with Dick for six years and if he's unlucky he'll have to fool the Bat himself. He shudders for a moment, thinking about how much trouble he could get Gardner in if anyone ever found out what they were doing.

Green eyes wander around the room, observing any details he may have missed. He notices a lack of telling decorations. There's nothing that gives him an insight on Gardner's personality.

And that is actually very telling.

From what he can see, Gardner has secrets—maybe, at least. There are no pictures and nothing impractical or anything giving insight on Gardner's personality. Everything here is just enough to make the room seem like someone actually does live in it.

A yawn captures Wally's attention. He looks at Gardner and it's only then that he realizes how tired the younger boy looks. "Do you ever sleep?" Wally asks before he can stop himself.

Gardner captures Wally's eyes and there's a twitch in those lips again. "I do," he says. "When you work the night shift and don't go to school, there isn't much you can do."

"I guess?" Wally scratches the back of his head and looks over Gardner. "You just seem really tired."

"I suppose I am a little tired," Gardner murmurs, returning his focus to the cards.

Wally opens his mouth to say something but he's cut off when his phone vibrates in his pocket. Curious, he pulls it out. It's a text from his uncle, telling him he needs to get to the Cave immediately. He catches Gardner trying to look at the text and Wally stands abruptly and pockets the phone.

"I need to go," he says, giving the distant-looking boy an apologetic smile. "I'll be back soon though."

"All right," Gardner says. "I'll keep looking through these."

The ginger gives him a thumbs-up. "I'm positive you'll be able to do this," he says in the most confident voice. He runs for the door, leaving his bag so he has an excuse to feed his parents so he can come back later if he's home too late. He misses the curve of Gardner's lip as the door closes.

Getting up, Gardner stretches and yawns before he picks up the pear to continue eating it. He walks over to the door and locks it. As he walks past the kitchen area, he tosses the pear back and it successfully lands in the compost bin. He sits himself back down in front of all the papers and throws his head back with a groan.

"This," he says, "is a big mistake."

* * *

I hope y'all actually read the author's notes. I was hoping for people to offer me some ideas but I didn't get much. :/ It's cool though. I should be able to work out a few things.

Anywho, I'm trying to make Gardner be that distant-seeming kind-of-a-jerk-sometimes kind of person. And if you're a good detective, you should be able to make a few deductions by now and know what questions to ask.

And no. I have not decided whether or not Gardner is actually Dick. Every similarity is for the purpose of confuzzling the characters and the readers. I will not confirm or disagree with any assumptions you make.

Feel free to drop a few words into the review box. :) Have a nice life!


	5. Chapter 5

_He doubts his skills as the World's Greatest Detective. A voice in the back of him is taunting and uncaring, telling him he doesn't deserve the title if he can't find his own partner. It only fuels the fire and makes him look harder._

 _A few minutes later, he's standing on the low ground. He stares down at a puddle and then he looks off into the distance, following a trail. It's blood, he notes. And it's fresh._

 _Taking a sample, he calls in to the Batcave. He's crouching over the puddle, hovering and staring at the spilled body fluid._

 _"Robin's missing," he says. "I found blood. Send his brothers."_

 _There's a taste of fear, which he shouldn't be experiencing because he's the god damn Batman. He stares at the trail of blood because it looks like a body was dragged. The thought makes him stand and continue his search._

 _He follows the blood to a dead end and no body._

•••

Wally walks at a fast pace while trying not to break out into a full-on run. He takes his time to observe the apartment complex. He wonders how many tenants there are and how high the rent must be. After all, the night shift can't pay that much if there's almost no patrons when it's past midnight and a little café can't pay _that_ much.

He then chuckles. What if he moved in one of the apartments after graduation? He's legally old enough to move out with or without consent from either parents. That idea makes him take half a second to pause before he continues on his merry way out.

Gardner's sixteen. Gardner is sixteen, living on his own, and graduated high school early. This revelation makes Wally wince as he thinks about his own life. Gardner LaRou (an ordinary teen) makes Wally West (a super-powered teen) look bad. And he's the one who's supposed to be a role model.

Without another thought, Wally continues on to get to the nearest zeta beam in Keystone.

•••

Recognized: Kid Flash, B03.

He thinks it's ironic that his superhero moniker is _Kid_ Flash when he's eighteen. He should consider changing his name to something much cooler. Definitely cooler. And maturer. Cool and mature. Right.

In a flash, he arrives at the mission room. He takes note of who is and isn't there. The Team is there minus one Robin and, surprisingly, Red Wonder is standing there before them. The older Bat Brother pulls up a screen and enlarges is for the Team.

Artemis is the first to greet Wally. "Look at who's finally arrived," she says in a snarky voice that's all bark and no bite because by now they both know their spats are purely for entertainment purposes. "Where have you been?"

Thinking an argument will erupt, Kaldur places a hand on the archer's shoulder. "Artemis, I am sure Wally has a reason for being late."

"And I'd like to hear it," she says, brandishing her bow. Wally takes that moment to realize everyone's in his or her own uniform aside from him. He gives a short and awkward laugh, using super speed to change into his own. With a small gesture using his hand, he comes up with a brief explanation.

"I was at a friend's," he says, choosing not to elaborate on all the little details. "We were studying."

"All I can say is I'm impressed that you care about your education," Red Wonder says, adopting a rather dry and unimpressed voice. "All right, Team, we have a mission for you."

Connor allows his face to twist into a mask of confusion. "We? You're the only one here with the ability to give us missions."

"I'm talking about Batman and the Flash," responds the former Boy Wonder. He gestures to the screen and the Dark Knight of Gotham appears with a grim line in place of the smile he never seems to have. "I'm here because this mission will be taking place in my city."

M'gann hovers above the floor by an inch or two. She looks curious. After all, the former protégés of Batman never allow the Team to take missions in their claimed cities or areas. Red Wonder never approved of having the Team set foot in Jump City.

"Your city is Jump City, right?" she asks. "Hello Megan! You have a team there! Why aren't they taking care of it?"

"This is a covert operation," Red Wonder says in a matter-of-factly voice. "While my team is taking care of the villains, you will be taking care of watching a transaction."

Batman takes over the briefing for now. "An anonymous tip has been sent in," he says to them. "The Flash has been given the task of looking over the blueprints."

Wally doesn't like the feeling that's swirling in his stomach. He feels like there's a little more to the whole affair and the three older heroes know it. "A transaction? That's it?"

"Wally, you know what this is, right?" Flash says as he holds up a blueprint. He has on a very serious face as he stands next to Batman.

The teenage speedster leans forward a bit to get a better look at the blueprint. His eyes scan it, trying to figure out what exactly the blueprint is for. It hits him like a ton of bricks and he widens his eyes. "Holy sh"—he glances at Batman's hardening glare—"iitake mushrooms. That's an IED, right?"

"What's that?" M'gann asks, leaning forward with her head tilted like a confused puppy. She looks a little worried when she notices Wally's pursed lips.

The speedster in question places a hand on his chin. "An Improvised Explosive Device," he informs them. "Or a bomb, whatever you wanna call it—either way, it goes boom."

"The blueprints were sent with a piece of paper that held two words," Batman says in a low voice. "C-4 and Xenothium," said the joined voices of Batman and Red Wonder.

"C-4 and Xenothium... C-4... and..." Wally gapes, looking between Batman and Red Wonder. "You don't think—?"

"It's written in the blueprints," Flash calls from off-screen. "Right here: C-4 as the explosive and Xenothium for the power source."

Kaldur has no idea of the severity but he senses the concern and slight panic. "How dangerous would this bomb be?"

"C-4 is an explosive material typically used in demolitions and whatnot," Wally says in a voice that's a little too fast. "And Xenothium is a very dangerous and very unstable power source. It's a compound that's very hard for even the _League_ to obtain legally."

The Atlantean frowns a little. "I'm not asking you what C-4 and Xenothium is."

"Very dangerous," Red Wonder says. "It's very dangerous. From what we've gathered, someone plans to make multiple bombs. Your mission is to stop this transaction from happening _if_ it happens."

"If," Connor repeats with a frown. "You're handing us this mission because you don't want to waste your time if it's a false lead."

Like with a bomb, Red Wonder tries to defuse the slight frustration the clone is experiencing. There's a brief moment where he's reminded of the times when he had to deal with Red Hood's temper or Robin's stubbornness. "That's not it," he says in a rigid yet gentle voice. "We're giving you this mission because we trust you. _I_ trust you."

Connor says nothing and it's Artemis who speaks this time. "Yeah, definitely believable. It's an honor, really. So, where in Jump City is it?"

"The Harbor," Batman says as he ignores the sarcastic undertones of Artemis' words. "Aqualad will be monitoring the waters and Kid Flash will take the Xenothium and run it over to the Cave should the transaction actually occur. The rest of you will be tasked with apprehending the persons involved if they do appear."

"Are you... you want me to steal the Xenothium?" Wally asks, looking confused. "It sure sounds like you're saying that."

"Of course not," Red Wonder says quickly. "You'll run it to the Cave so a League member can return it to the proper handlers."

Kaldur nods and looks up at the screen. "Shall we leave now?" he asks. Batman gives an affirmation and logs off. Red Wonder nods his head and they all head off to the bioship.

•••

Taking over the mission as leader, Red Wonder gives the orders. He tells M'gann to camouflage the bioship and instructs Kaldur to dive into the waters to patrol. For the rest of them, he tells them to split up and watch for each other's cues. The Titans member tells them not to use their mental link so they could be completely focused on the surroundings.

The gentle waves of the waters beneath them are the only sounds aside from the distant city noises. It's kind of calming and refreshing to not use the link to communicate. It lets Wally worry about Gardner without risking anyone hearing his thoughts.

He's only half-focused on the mission. It's dangerous when there's a chance that the threat is real and someone actually is making bombs. He can't help it though.

After all, Gardner has garnered all of his attention.

Wally is thankful for his gloves. Gloves make it harder to bite one's nails. It's a nervous habit he has and he's a little more than nervous. He's nervous about a lot of things. Gardner had been right when he implied that Wally had done little to no thinking about his ploy.

What if Haly didn't buy the act? The old man will probably force Gardner onto a trapeze just to prove it because one can take the boy out of the circus but one cannot take the circus out of the boy. No one can perform like a Grayson without being a Grayson themselves.

And a Grayson is what Gardner isn't.

Or is he?

No, no, Wally thinks, shaking his head out of frustration. Gardner can't be Dick. He wouldn't... I would... he isn't.

Gardner can't be Dick. It would be wishful thinking on Wally's part to hope the black-haired fellow is his long lost best friend. And it would be a damn miracle if Wally ever sees his best friend again.

Straying away from the wishful thinking, Wally mulls over the fact that he'll have to find an excuse Gardner can use so he can avoid pulling off any fancy acrobatics to convince the old man. Hopefully he knows his friend well enough to turn a total stranger into a convincing fake.

And, hopefully, he won't feel so guilty once Haly decides to keep the circus working.

Focus, he tells himself as he watches his teammates. He can worry later when he's back with Gardner at that barely lived-in apartment of his. He can worry later when he's not in the middle of a mission.

He sees nothing out of the ordinary but he knows better than to let his guard down. There's a chance the tip's fake and there's a chance it's more real than cheddar cheese (and cheddar cheese is pretty real to him).

More sudden than a striking snake, Wally sees Artemis give a rather deliberate and violent jerk as she nods toward something. They've locked eyes by now and he looks to where she seems to be gesturing to.

* * *

Oh my, this was really hard for me to write. Sigh. I hope y'all enjoyed it anyway. I probably rewrote this three times. :/ Anywho, so, the whole Xenothium bit is just me taking some creative liberty of sorts.

Anywho, thank you for all your words! I enjoyed looking at all your theories and ideas. :) Y'all came up with roughly the same ideas (although some elaborated more) but there's one idea y'all haven't considered.

And I'm glad at you guys don't seem to be hating Gardner. For now, he's technically an OC who bears a resemblance to an actual character. Fun Fact: Gardner LaRou is the name for an actual OC of mine. Bahaha.

So, um, _Olivia Penn_ , I'm afraid you'll have to elaborate on your story idea before I consider taking it.

Questions: What role do you think these bombs will play in the story if they are made? Should Gardner end up being Dick or nah? Do you think he is? Is firefly the opposite of waterfall? Who's behind the transaction?


	6. Chapter 6

"You're distracted," someone says and Gardner freezes. "Or sleep deprived. Maybe both."

It takes a few seconds to realize who had spoken to him and a few more to realize he had been staring into space for who knows how long. He swallows, shifting his eyes to the balcony door. The curtains flutter when a small breeze brushes by and he manages to smile.

"Hey, Jason," he says. "What are you doing here? And do you always have to come through the balcony? What if someone sees you and thinks you're a burglar or something?"

Jason Todd is standing in the room and he doesn't bother closing the balcony doors. Instead, he's watching Gardner with suspicious eyes. Trudging over, combat boots leaving faint dirt prints, he shakes his head.

"You're really out of it, aren't ya, G?" He laughs. "You texted me a few minutes ago. When's the last time you got sleep?"

Gardner blinks and then pulls out his phone. It's apparently a new model from Wayne Tech, according to Jason. The older male had gifted it to him a few weeks ago after Gardner somehow found himself acting as a replacement hostage in some kidnapping case.

"Wally West," Gardner finds himself spitting out in a mildly panicked voice. It's so unlike him to show this much panic and Jason has to do a double take on the two words.

Jason seems to recognize the name because he's frowning now. "What about him?"

The younger male hesitates as he makes a few gestures with his hands in attempt to calm himself. He eventually sighs and looks Jason in the eyes. "I—uh... West wants me to pretend to be Grayson."

" _What?_ "

"I know Grayson was your younger brother—or whatever he was—and all and that he's disappeared but I could use a favor or two."

"No," Jason snaps. "No, I don't want any part in this."

Gardner flinches but immediately puts on a poker face. "He wants to save the circus," he explains. "I swear, it's like West is in love with Grayson, which would be a riot since the bottomless pit must be straighter than my priorities." He shakes his head, silently lamenting on how he's getting off topic. "Look, Jason, I know you hated Grayson for being your replacement and the Golden Boy of Gotham City but I've already agreed and I'm not backing out now."

Jason searches Gardner's mostly expressionless face. There are some betraying details such as the minute furrowing of the brows and the eyes that shift from strong emotions to nothing and back again in seconds. For a second, Jason sees Dick Grayson in Gardner LaRou's face and he looks away.

"I never hated him," Jason says. "I never hated Dick, okay? I hated myself because I was a stupid kid and jealous."

There's a flicker of surprise in Gardner's face before he smiles a very awkward smile that doesn't belong on such a Dick Grayson-like face because Dick Grayson has genuine smiles and not awkward ones (not that awkward smiles can't be genuine). "You didn't hate him?"

"How could I?" Jason asks, staring into those remarkable blue eyes. "Even if it weren't by blood or name, he was— _is_ —still my little brother."

"So you'll help me, right? Do this for Grayson."

"What's the plan?"

There's another flicker in Gardner's face but Jason can't place the emotion. The younger male lets out a not-so-intelligent noise that rubs the back of his throat. He looks around before settling his eyes on the table.

"I go see that show that the Haly man is holding," he says. "I reveal myself as Grayson and it should stop the man from closing the circus."

"All right," Jason says. "Okay, we can work with"—he scratches the back of his head—"this. There's one little problem."

"Let me guess, Wayne and his sons will be in the audience," Gardner ventures, morphing his face into yet another impassive affect. He picks up one of the index cards. "Maybe even the Pennyworth man will be there."

Jason shifts. "You hit the nail right on the head, G," he says. "And why do you always refer to everyone but me with his or her last name? You sound so much like the demon spawn."

"Or their, Jason, you mustn't forget nonbinaries and everyone else who doesn't fall under the he/she category," Gardner admonishes, not answering the question. "And demon spawn? There"—he combs through the index cards—"doesn't seem to be a card for that."

After briefly sifting through the cards himself, Jason pulls one from the mess. He looks at Gardner. "Got a pen?"

Shaking his head, Gardner twists around and grabs Wally's bag before twisting back. "West must have one in here somewhere."

He digs into one of the pockets while Jason gets up and heads to the kitchen. He hears the sound of glass and a water bottle being opened. Then there's a shuffling sound along with a crinkle of plastic that he can't place coming from the kitchen area.

A yawn escapes its jail and he has to blink away the tears that collected in the corner of his eyes. No, he's not crying; it's just tears of tiredness and fatigue.

Perhaps he should actually go to sleep and skip all the reading.

Then, Gardner furrows his brows and pulls his hand out. In his fingers appear a... communicator? He purses his lips and observes it. He jumps a little when Jason sets a glass of water down on the table. Jason takes one look at the object before shaking his head.

"That's one of the communicators," Jason says. "It's a new design Bruce came up with after Goldie disappeared."

"Why?"

"Apparently Dick smashed his communicator," says the older male. "This design apparently can't be destroyed."

Gardner says nothing as he stares at the communicator. He returns it and pulls out a pen that he finds seconds later, handing it to Jason. The latter begins to write on some of the index cards, being careful and trying his best to forge Wally's handwriting just in case the speedster notices. Gardner takes the glass of water he never asked for and takes a long sip.

"Don't worry about a thing, G," Jason says. "I'll help where I can."

•••

"Hey, Jason? Before you"—Gardner stretches his arms, yawning loudly—"go, can you answer two questions?"

"Whatever. Sure."

"Did you drug the water?" Gardner asks with a small smirk that melts away into a frown. "And do I really resemble the original Grayson so much?"

"Yeah, I did," Jason says. "And yeah, you do."

•••

"—ner? Hey, Gardner, wake up?"

Gardner blinks, waiting a few seconds so his eyes can adjust to the false lighting emanating from the ceiling light. He sits up, realizing that he had been placed on the couch. He looks around, seeing nothing but Wally and his speedster self in the room.

There's a bandage peeking out from under the ginger's shirt but he pretends not to notice. It most likely has to do with the extra curriculars of the heroing sort. If he were to ask, he'd most likely get some farfetched excuse because, as a civilian, he's supposed to not have any knowledge on the heroes and his or her (or their) secret identity.

"Er, good"—he glances at the clock on the wall—"evening, West."

Wally looks at him. "Yeah, you too, LaRou." He snickers. "Hey, that rhymes."

"I find that so very amusing as well, West," Gardner drawls. He rubs his eyes and rolls his shoulders. "My apologies for falling asleep."

Quickly, Wally shakes his head and smiles as if everything is right with the world. "Nah, I think you needed it. So, did your eidetic memory do its magic or...?"

Gardner pauses, unsure of how to reply. He runs over a few facts and finds that he can remember them perfectly. So, he gives a curt nod and stands. There's just a tiny sense of vertigo but it doesn't bother him.

"It has," he says, tilting his head upwards a bit to look into Wally's bright green eyes. "I'll have no problem memorizing everything you've provided me with on the cards."

"Astrous."

"As...trous?" Gardner looks Wally up and down, trying to see if the older male is okay. "Did you just—?"

"Oh, did I forget to put his vocab on a card?" Wally picks up a number of cards and Gardner feels his heart race a little at the risk of Wally noticing any added bits of information. "I probably did. See, Dick had a habit of taking prefixes off of words and all. He shared his vocabulary with a select few though."

Gardner nods thoughtfully before snorting. "Sounds stupid," he remarks, flicking his bangs with his index and middle fingers pressed together and the thumb pointed out just slightly. "I'm assuming astrous must be the opposite of disastrous."

Wally looks at him and blinks out of surprise. He nods before returning his attention to the cards. He swallows and Gardner can see his Adam's apple bob out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah, it is."

The older teen narrows his eyes at the cards, flipping through them faster and discarding the ones he looked at to the floor. He drops to his knees in a heartbeat and looks through the other cards. Gardner resists the urge to step back and instead harrumphs.

"Amazed by your outstandingly horrendous penmanship?" he asks.

"No," Wally says. "I don't remember writing some of the stuff on some cards. Like with the Damian Wayne card. I don't remember added _demon spawn_ to it. I mean, I agree with it but I didn't write that down."

Gardner's eyes narrow just the slightest bit but Wally is too busy rereading every card to notice. He sniffs indignantly. "Well, obviously you must have," he retorts. "I definitely couldn't have."

"Yeah, you couldn't have," Wally mutters. He sighs and picks up all the cards. "Anyway! I have a few questions."

"Shoot."

"How good are you with acrobatics? Oh, and family. If you were found by the press, would your family figure you out if they saw you on the news or something?"

Gardner hesitates. What should he say? Rather, what _could_ he say? He fixes his expression and gives Wally a small glance as he turns his head to the side. "I like to think I'm decent," he says. "I... took a few lessons when I was a kid because my parents thought the skills would help me in other sports."

"And your parents? Would they recognize you if you ended up on some magazine?"

"How could they?" Gardner says in a steady voice. He says his next words in an even sturdier one. "How could they do so when they're six feet underground?"

He hears Wally breath hitch.

* * *

Hi! I'm sorry for the long wait and not-so-great chapter. I had so much trouble with my original idea so I scrapped it for this piece of scrap metal.

I hope this chapter has you asking questions. :) Please drop any in the review box if you feel up to it. ;)) I gave you allusions to some of your theories (i.e. Gardner is a clone, Gardner is Dick, etc.) but I'm neither confirming or denying anything and I even revealed to y'all that Jason and Gardner are acquainted.

To my friend, _SmallGh0st_ , my firefly-waterfall question was just there for my entertainment to see if anyone would notice. :P And _PsychedelicCat_ , I was really happy to learn that you actually reread one of my chapters thrice. :0 Apologies if Terry is OOC. I've only watched a few episodes with him so I haven't been able to grasp his (or anyone's, really) character completely. And _Poksie_ , that's the first of that theory I've heard. Definitely a very interesting one. :o

Funny story, so, I was out at this area with a waterfall, right? I was chilling in the water on my phone (I write my stories on my phone if you didn't know) and I decided to come up with various ideas: like, should I make Dick's disappearance related to Deathstroke with the apprentice arc or Talon related or what? I'm saving those ideas for other stories so I don't overwhelm myself. :)

 _ **Edit:**_ Whoops. The above little paragraph _wasn't_ asking anything. Those were just questions I was asking (and answered) myself. I'm keeping the Court and the apprentice ideas in other stories because this plot itself is going to be a challenge to write. :P Basically, no I'm not turning this isn't an apprentice or Talon fic.


	7. Chapter 7

The confession is shocking and saddening. The room goes silent enough that Wally can swear on his life that he could hear literal nothingness. He doesn't know how to properly respond and his mind flounders for a response.

He's just like Dick, he thinks. I swear, he can actually be Dick and I wouldn't know any better.

Wally berates himself for being a jerk in his mind. He's comparing a dead ringer to his best friend and he's been doing it ever since he met the boy-behind-the-counter. It's unfair to the younger teen because Gardner is Gardner and Dick is Dick.

Simple as that, he reminds himself.

"Dude, I—"

"Don't you dare say you're sorry," Gardner says swiftly in a harsh voice and the stare he partners with his words make Wally feel just a few degrees colder. There's something in those blue eyes that Wally cannot place. "Don't you dare pity me."

"I won't," Wally says in a quick voice so that he can remedy the situation. "I won't. Promise."

Gardner narrows his eyes just a tad before he diverts his attention somewhere that isn't Wally's face. He licks his lips gingerly and after closing his eyes, he places the sight of now-emotionless orbs onto the freckles of Wally's face. "Good."

The ginger nods awkwardly, trying to appear casual and kind of failing by a bit. He offers Gardner a curious look. "So, uh, if you don't mind me asking... what happened to them, exactly?"

Blue eyes crack experience a crack in the impassive facade. There's a flash of panic that disappears almost too fast for Wally to catch. The speedster is fast enough to see it and it makes him even more curious.

"My parents were murdered," Gardner says, delivering the words without a single hitch in his voice. Those words make Wally's stomach do things a stomach shouldn't be able to do. Along with the odd action done by his inner organ, his throat goes dry and he can't seem to find his voice.

No one should be able to speak like that about their parents being murdered, he thinks. His mind is borderline horrified at this revelation but he can't say he's never heard those words before. They had come out of the mouths of many superheroes.

Those words had come out of Dick's mouth at some point after the mask came off.

"When, exactly, did this happen?" Wally asks. He immediately colors red. Like he's been told on numerous occasions, he speaks faster than his brain thinks. It's a curse because often times he can say offensive or inconsiderate things.

And the latter is exactly what he said to Gardner.

It comes as a surprise to see that Gardner has no visible reaction to the inquiry that should be upsetting to the black-haired boy.

"I'm afraid," Gardner says, "that that's a story for another time." He gets up and brushes off invisible specks of dust and debris that are most definitely nowhere on his pants while giving Wally yet another unreadable expression. "You must be hungry. How does Chinese sound? I don't feel like cooking—and don't worry, it's my treat."

Wally just nods. "Yeah, that's cool."

The café boy walks over to the kitchen counter after a beat of hesitation. He picks up the telephone and dials a number. He gives an order but he doesn't bother asking Wally for anything. The speedster is a little miffed but at the same time he doesn't want to spend too much of Gardner's money.

"Now that that's taken care of, how about you give me an impromptu lesson? We have a few hours before I need to go to work," Gardner says as he turns around to grab the handle of the fridge. He pulls it open and grabs two bottles of water and tosses one over to Wally.

With reflexes just a touch too fast for that of a normal human, Wally catches it. He misses the knowing gleam in Gardner's eyes because he's too busy berating himself for showing the speed. He blames it on the fact that Gardner really is too much like Dick.

And that makes himself silently lecture himself for comparing the two. Gardner and Dick have to be completely different people. They must be otherwise Wally won't know what to think.

•••

It's the middle of the school day and he doesn't know what to do. He isn't tired enough to sleep and he isn't motivated enough to flip through those stupid index cards left to him by the older teen. So, forgive him if he's rather clueless on what to do.

Letting his feet guide him, he finds himself casually strolling into the café where only one of his coworkers is manning the front counter. He sits himself down on the stool and heaves a sigh that's plagued with many troubles.

Sparing a curious glance at his younger friend, the on-duty teen asks if he's alright in a soothing voice. He flicks away the unruly dirt-brown hair that's in front of his right eye.

"I don't know," the younger teen says uncomfortably because he isn't used to talking about his feelings.

The older teen with hair of dirt and eyes of hazel just smiles. The older teen is the real Gardner LaRou and the real Gardner LaRou is a college freshman who works the day shift once-a-week whenever his professors don't hold classes for the day.

Not-Gardner smirks, letting his blue eyes light up. "That aside, hello, LaRou. How's the shift going?"

"Hello yourself," the real Gardner LaRou says back. "The shift's going fine. Wanna take over? After all, you've been borrowing my uniform for a while, haven't you?"

The younger teen flushes scarlet as the real Gardner tugs on the red apron that not-Gardner had put on after Wally's sudden arrival at the café.

"How did you know?" he asks, looking suspiciously at the brown-haired college boy. He distinctly remembers wiping the footage of each night where Wally visited. He replaced all the footage with loops of him mopping up the floor and wiping down the tables and a few seconds where he'd stare into the static on the television.

He was also positive that he had carefully placed the cloth back into the employees locker belonging to his coworker.

"The way you folded my apron whenever you put it back in my locker," Gardner says in a matter-of-factly voice. "Only you have the habit of folding it so neatly instead of throwing it in the locker. Well, you and probably my butler from when I used to live with my parents."

"Oh."

"I'm not even gonna ask how you got into my locker," Gardner says in a light tone. He nudges not-Gardner with a minute punch to the arm. "So, whatcha doing here? You obviously aren't here to work since you take the night shift all the time."

Scratching the back of his head, the sixteen-year-old shrugs while looking down at the counter. He bites his lip because he doesn't know what to do. His next words are spoken in a quiet and low tone while he faces away in case that there were any open eyes and ears. "Hey, um, you'd cover for me, right? I mean, if someone finds out that I've been using your name."

"Of course," Gardner replies with a thousand-watt grin. "I owe you for that incident weeks ago. You've done a lot for me and this is the least I can do, right?"

Not-Gardner smiles. "Right."

•••

Wally knocks on the door of Gardner's apartment. In his other hand are two bags from a fast food joint that he and Dick used to frequent whenever the latter was in Keystone. He had no idea what to order Gardner but his body was on autopilot and decided to order what Dick used to.

"I, er, hope he's not allergic to anything," he mumbles to himself, holding up the bags. "And that he likes this stuff."

Before he can knock again, the door opens. Gardner looks a bit disheveled as if he had been woken up from an afternoon nap on the couch. If that were the case, then the nap did nothing to reduce the bags under those blue eyes.

"Hello, West," he says in a voice that's drunk on sleep. He rubs his eyes and moves to the side.

"I brought tacos," Wally says awkwardly, jiggling the bags in the air. Gardner's eyes zero in on the bags and his tongue peeks out briefly to lick his top lip. The speedster notices and remembers that Dick had that same habit whenever faced with food he liked.

Wally steps in and kicks off his shoes while Gardner presumably goes off to grab some drinks after he locks the door. The super-powered student has to hesitate before he invites himself onto the couch and places the bags on the coffee table.

"So, uh, how was your afternoon?" Wally asks when Gardner sits himself a few inches away from him.

"I was pretty turbed until you got here but since you"—Gardner reaches forward for the bag and pulls out the order Wally got with Dick in mind—"brought these, I'll consider forgiving you."

Wally does a double-take on the fourth word that left Gardner's lips in that sentence. "Did you just say turbed?"

Gardner's cheeks experience a slight dusting of red. "You mentioned that Grayson has a unique quirk with his words," he says while avoiding Wally's eyes. "I just figured if aster is the opposite of _dis_ aster, turbed is the opposite of _dis_ turbed. Am I wrong in my assumption, West?"

"No, no," replies the speedster who finally reaches for the other bag of fast food. "You're right. Dick used to say turbed a lot, that's all. It surprised me."

"Well, West, I like to think I'm a man of many surprises."

"Oh? So you're a man now?" Wally grins. "With that height, you coulda fooled me."

Blue eyes light up but there's a twitch in his lips that tell Wally that the younger teen is anything but offended. "You take that back, West! I'm only a few inches shorter than you."

The reply he's ready to shoot back dies down as Wally feels a sense of nostalgia. He remembers the arguments he had with Dick being like this. So, he punches Gardner lightly on the arm.

" _And_ you still have voice cracks," Wally says in a cheeky voice.

* * *

Whaaaaat? A new update? Already? :0

So, not-Gardner's character is very interesting and just a touch confuzzling, isn't he? I wonder what his real name is... hehe. As I've said before, **I will not be confirming or denying any of your theories**. I'll make you think things but then I _will_ try to confuse you. It's more fun this way. ;)

Oh, just so you know, not-Gardner will only be referred to as such when the real Gardner LaRou is in the scene. If he isn't, he'll be referred to as Gardner. Just wanted to clear that up for y'all. :)

Questions: Why do you think Jason calls Gardner "G" if his real name isn't Gardner? :0 And what "incident" was the real Gardner referring to? And yes, I did mention it before. :P So, by now, who (or what) do you think not-Gardner is?

Now, do y'all have any questions for me? I'll be happy to answer any of them. :3


	8. Chapter 8

"Jason?"

" _What's up, G?_ "

"Wally isn't all that bad, you know?"

A pause. " _What are you implying?_ "

He laughs. "Nothing really," he says dismissively. "I'm just thinking that it's okay to let him in."

" _I hope you know what you're doing._ "

•••

There's less than three days until the performance. Feeling very sleep deprived and just a little nervous about going, Gardner has felt very troubled during the night shift and many thoughts haunt him dreams. There's a hint of guilt because he's trying to fool an innocent old man who just wants to find someone whom he could call family.

Someone who isn't Gardner LaRou.

There's a knock on his door. It's persistent and annoying and interrupting his sleep. The noise causes him to slide off the crumpled sheets of his bed. He falls to the floor and after a few more seconds of that somewhat-muted knocking, he picks himself up.

Gardner rubs his tired eyes and grumpily walks towards the door. Under his breath, he's mumbling about how he is so not traught and that he probably only got around three hours of sleep at this point. He also laments about how it's way too bright as he unlocks the door without peeping through the peephole.

"Dude!"

Startled, Gardner takes a step back as Wally invites himself in. The ginger kicks off his shoes and closes the door for Gardner. He looks excited and the younger teen stares at him wearily.

"West? Don't you have school?" he asks, knotting his brows together. "It... it is a school day, right?"

Wally nods. "Yeah, duh," he says. "Don't worry. I asked my parents if I could skip so I could show a friend around. It took a bit of negotiating but I got them to agree."

Gardner raises his brows. "Oh?"

"Get dressed," Wally says in a rush. "I wanna take you somewhere."

A snort escapes Gardner before he can contain it. "Is this your way of asking me on a date?" he asks with a teasing smirk. "I must say, you have an interesting approach."

"D-dude!"

"I'm flattered, West, really," Gardner drawls with a sardonic and shit-eating grin. He even has the gall to wink at the older teen before walking off in the direction of his room. Over his shoulder, he calls out, "I'd hate to break Grayson's heart though, you know?"

•••

Wally is still a little flustered despite the fact that the both of them had left Gardner's apartment quite a while ago. The two had grabbed a late breakfast (for Gardner's sake, really) before heading off in the direction chosen by the speedster. The walk includes a bit of bonding that allows Wally to glimpse inside the dead ringer's personality.

"So," Wally says. "Why do you take the night shift? It's not like anyone but me comes in."

"True. After all, no one but you seems to have a bottomless pit of a stomach that needs to be satisfied at two-in-the-morning," Gardner replies. He looks off to the side. "My reason for working so late is silly."

"Can't be that silly."

Gardner sniffs indignantly. Shifting his eyes, he glares at Wally without turning his head even the slightest bit. "You'd laugh," he says. "And I don't like being ridiculed."

The speedster raises his brows before he turns his head to give Gardner a reassuring smile. "No worries, dude," he says. "I promise you I would never laugh, 'kay? Just like I promised to never pity you."

The black-haired boy regards the red-haired one with an odd look before he returns all his attention to the sidewalk in front of them. The two of them had been walking for a few minutes now. Surprisingly, no one questioned the two teens or accused them of truancy. Then again, it isn't really anyone's business anyway.

"I have nightmares," he confesses quietly. "Stupid, I know, but whenever I close my eyes I can't help but see it all over again. And isn't it enough that I had to actually live them before? So, taking the night shift helps because when I get... back to my apartment I just collapse on my bed without hesitation. And if I do have a nightmare, I'll be too tired to care."

"Oh," Wally says, not knowing how to take it in. "You know, Dick used to have nightmares too. I always did my best to help him whenever he had one."

"So, even the Golden Boy of Gotham City had trouble sleeping at night?" Despite the way it was phrased, Gardner's voice holds no mocking tone. His blue eyes rise up to the skies that pale in comparison.

Wally grins stupidly. "Doesn't everyone have trouble at some point? He always used to tell me that sometimes your memories can be a great dream or an even greater nightmare but they help you grow, you know? His nightmares were always about his memories too."

The younger teen snorts. There's no flicker of emotion in his face though. "Wise guy," he remarks. "I would have liked to meet him."

"And he would've liked to meet you," Wally replies. He lets out a loud laugh. "He's a real prankster sometimes. He'd probably rope you into them somehow."

Gardner says nothing for a few seconds. Both boys easily lapse into a not-so-awkward silence and Wally wonders if Gardner is going to go back to being his distant self. Then, Gardner speaks up, asking where Wally was taking them because he's tired of not knowing.

"There's this place where you can practice some acrobatics and tumbling and all that," Wally says. "I figured I could take you so we can safely practice. Don't worry, I know enough to be a decent spotter."

Blue eyes light up and pale lips twitch at one corner. "An interesting first date idea, wouldn't you say? I'm flattered, really, I mean, you even asked permission to skip school just for me."

Chanting a mantra about how superheroes should not injure innocent civilians, Wally rolls his eyes. "Dude, _dude,_ please," he says, "I... okay, fine, I'm not one-hundred percent straight, okay? There."

Gardner stops to stare at Wally. The older teen stops after taking a few steps without realizing Gardner was no longer by his side. He turns to face Gardner. There's no one else on the sidewalk, unsurprisingly, and he scratches the back of his neck while looking off into the distance.

His cheeks are burning, as are his ears. He clears his throat. "You're okay with that, right? Like, I wouldn't say I'm gay but I wouldn't say I'm straight or bisexual either, you know?" He laughs uneasily and ducks his head a bit. "I don't know what I am, honestly. There's so many sexualities and romantic-orientations. Sometimes it's okay not to know and not to label yourself and just because I also like boys doesn't mean I'm attracted to you and—"

"Oh shut up," Gardner says, interrupting Wally's wayward speech. "It's okay, West, really. I sincerely apologize if you felt a need to come out because I was just teasing."

"That's good," Wally says. "And it's fine, Gardner. Just... just don't tell anyone. I don't think anyone else knows."

"You have my word."

Even though they still aren't friends, Wally knows he can trust Gardner to keep a secret. After all, the boy seems to have a hundred of those.

•••

Gardner stares apprehensively at all of the mats and nets. He looks up to see a trapeze and the height is rather... startling. One glance at Wally tells him that the speedster expects him to be able to go on that thing.

"So, think you can use a trapeze?"

"I..." Gardner trails off, biting his lip. He looks away. "I, uh... I'm kind of..."

Wally raises a brow. "Do you want me to get an actual spotter? I mean, you have a net but I'm probably not up to your standards on a spotter."

"No, no," Gardner says. He gestures to the ladder leading up to the platform of the trapeze. He doesn't look up though and chooses to keep his eyes on the ground. "I... there's something I should probably tell you."

"What?" Wally frowns. "You aren't afraid of heights, are you?"

"You hit the nail on the head, West," Gardner says with a dry chuckle. His arms move so his hands could attach themselves just above the opposite elbow.

The ginger purses his lips. One hand goes to cradle his chin and the other rests on his hip. He hums thoughtfully. "We'll probably need to give you a cast or something, then. You know, an excuse to keep you from going on the trapeze if it's set up and if the old man wants you to go on." He turns curious eyes onto Gardner. "Is there a story behind it? You don't have to tell me if you aren't comfortable."

A small and rare smile appears on Gardner's face. "It was a chilly night and I just remember... running and running and running some more." His fingers tighten on the long-sleeved jacket he refused to take off. "And then I was falling and there was so much blood and, suddenly, there was nothing. And... I don't know. I think I was scared."

Wally keeps himself from gaping. He's surprised that Gardner had shared that. He's also very... he doesn't know how to describe it. Wally just nods.

"Okay, I won't make you go on the trapeze," he says softly. "Not unless you're comfortable. How about you do some tumbling action?"

"Yeah," Gardner says. "I can do that."

He easily does a back bend and kicks himself up and then goes back down into a handstand. He walks on his hands for a few moments before getting back up to his feet in an elegant display. Gardner frowns, remarking about how he's a little rusty and should probably stretch first.

"You surprise me more and more everyday," Wally manages to say.

For a moment, yet again, Wally saw Dick Grayson.

* * *

Things are getting interesting, aren't they? :0 Gardner had a fear of heights? And the memory associated with that fear seems quite familiar, wouldn't you say? ;) And it seems like Gardner is starting to open up a bit more.

So, I hope you all remembered that I did say that there might be slash. _Maybe_. *shrugs* Please don't tell me not to include it or that my story would be better without. Knowing me, I would include it out of spite. :P

Next chapter may or may not bring us to the performance? I haven't started it yet. Let me tell you that behind the scenes, Jason has logged onto the main computer of the Batcave to... change whatever he needs to. ;) Truth be told, his knowing Gardner was originally for the sake of taking care of all the issues I'll run into when Gardner encounters the Bat Family.

There is, however, one issue Jason can't solve. Gardner is afraid of heights. Dick Grayson? Not so much. Do you think Gardner would be willing to try and conquer his fear to keep the game going?

Anywho... in case I didn't make it clear, Wally's trying to go as all out as possible to help Gardner play the role of Dick Grayson. In case Haly wants to put him on the trapeze to see if he really is Dick (since no one can fly like a Grayson), Wally intended to gauge Gardner's skills if he has any.

Honestly, if you haven't figured it out already, this was meant as more of a filler. :/


	9. Chapter 9

"Hey, uh, West, how exactly are we going to get to Gotham?" Gardner asks, raising a brow. He leans against the counter of his kitchen area. He's only wearing a t-shirt and boxers since he's alone in the apartment.

Cue the awkward pause. " _Uh..._ "

Gardner smirks and his blue eyes light up victoriously. He finally has the perfect moment to corner the speedster. "You weren't thinking of carrying me there bridal style, were you, Romeo?" He pauses. "Or rather, _Kid Flash._ "

Wally sputters out a few nonsensical words before he's able to calm himself. " _Me?_ " he says in the most incredulous voice he can muster. " _Kid Flash? Me? You think that someone so cool can be someone so me?_ "

"Only Kid Flash would say he's cool, West," Gardner replies after letting out a snort. "If anything, the coolest protégé would be Robin. Of course, I hear he's retired for undisclosed reasons."

" _I... okay, fine, yes. I, Wally West, am totally Kid Flash._ "

Obviously, Wally is on the brink of panicking and trying to use sarcasm to ward off the accusation. Deep down, on one hand, Gardner feels bad for making the poor boy suffer. On the other hand, however, he's very pleased that he won't have to pretend to not know anymore. Though, he supposes it's not everyday that a superhero's identity gets busted.

Sighing, Gardner puts his phone on speaker and opens up his text messages. He clicks on Jason's name and begins to tap out a message.

"West, I recommend that you stop playing ignorant because it won't be getting you anywhere," he says. "Your appetite is a dead giveaway, obviously, and there aren't that many teens in the area with your hair color—trust me, I'm a people-watcher so I'd know. And your reflexes when I threw you the water bottle? Just a touch too fast, I must say."

Wally's end stays silent for a few seconds. Then, a sigh. " _Okay, you got me. You, uh... you aren't going to tell anyone, right? This could put you and I in some serious danger. I don't want to risk it with you being a civilian and all._ "

And done, Gardner thinks as he shoots off a text asking Jason if it's possible to reprogram a zeta tube without getting caught. He exits the texting app and opens up a word scramble game that he has set to a language that definitely isn't English. He doesn't bother to reply for what feels like hours to Wally (even though it's more like thirty seconds) and it definitely raises the awkward levels.

" _Hey, uh, Gardner? Do you mind saying something? I'm starting to get really freaked out._ "

"You underestimate my capabilities of keeping a secret," Gardner says. "And my capabilities of protecting myself. I'm not _just_ a civilian and I'm mildly offended that you think that."

" _If you're not_ just _a civilian, then what are you?_ "

Gardner smiles. "You'll figure it out someday, West," he says cryptically. "I'll see you in Gotham, all right? It's only then that I'll talk."

•••

It took a while but Gardner managed to hack into a zeta tube. He hid evidence of slight tampering but did nothing about hiding the fact that someone had used the tube to go from Keystone to Gotham.

He's currently sitting in a coffee shop, stirring a styrofoam cup of black coffee that he was forced to order unless he wanted to get kicked out of the shop. He blows on it and then sips on the liquid. It's bitter and burns the back of his throat and his tongue. He gags, setting the cup back down swiftly. Coffee splashes onto his hand and it burns.

Gardner's wearing a black jacket over a blue t-shirt he dug up in the back of his closet. He's wearing black skinny jeans that are uncomfortable and suffocating. There's a black baseball cap on his head and dark sunglasses that are tinted enough to hide his eyes. And he had decided to forego the cast that Wally suggested he wear.

It's weird being in Gotham City. It's different from Keystone, that's for sure.

Blue eyes wander around the interior of the building. He's looking for a clock so that he can know the time without pulling out his phone. The model he has isn't out in stores yet and anyone who keeps up with the times would know that. He really didn't need or want anyone to ask questions.

As he looks around, he finds a person hunched over his or her (or their) table, poring over something laid out in front of him with a steaming cup of coffee right next to him and a buttered croissant. The person seems to sense watching eyes as he or she (or they) look up and then around before locking eyes with Gardner.

Gardner freezes, not knowing what to do since he's been caught. He recognizes this person and the other person seems to have an idea of who Gardner is.

Or rather, who Gardner is pretending to be.

This person, Gardner thinks to himself, is Timothy Drake. He's an adopted son of Bruce Wayne and one of Dick Grayson's surrogate brothers. And this is a very dangerous situation.

Any normal person wouldn't bother to look past the poor disguise Gardner is wearing. The disguise itself does a terrible job hiding the striking similarity between him and Grayson. Anyone trained like Drake can easily see what Gardner is trying to hide.

Gardner had expected to run into the Bat himself with his family—eventually, at least. He had not, however, expected to run into anyone out in public so soon. He's surprised that Drake isn't being swarmed with the press. Then again, this three-star coffee shop is a little out of the way and seems to have no respect for the press if the signs forbidding them from entering on the window were any indication.

Drake looks like he's about to walk over to Gardner. The younger male won't allow it so he breaks eye contact, picks up his coffee, and gets up so he can throw away the drink and then find somewhere he can call safe.

"Hey, wait!"

Obviously, Gardner doesn't listen. No, it's much too soon to risk getting a game over now.

He exits fast, looking both ways. He realizes now that Drake's position gave him the perfect view of the alley with the zeta tube Gardner had used. Is it possible that the zeta log had already been noticed? He hopes not and he doesn't have time to think.

Gardner runs into an alley, easily working his way through. When he thinks the danger has passed, he pulls out his phone a few minutes later just to be sure.

"West?" he hisses, trying to keep his voice low. "I'm in Gotham. Where are you?"

" _Sorry, man. Remember how I told you it took a while for my parents to agree to let me skip school? Well, they're making me stay at home doing chores and studying even though school let out already._ " A sigh. " _I knew there was a catch_..."

Gardner's eye twitches beneath the shades. He pokes his head out from behind the side of the dumpster he's shielding himself with and makes sure no one is there. Once the place was secure in his mind, he pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales slowly.

"Are you serious?" he asks, trying to keep his voice low just in case. "Okay. I can do this on my own. Besides, it's better this way if I get caught, right?"

" _I'm so sorry. I'll try to convince my parents._ "

"Don't bother," Gardner says dryly. "I'm sure they're a force to be reckoned with. Look, I have to go."

A pause. " _Good luck. Try not to get caught._ "

He hangs up and darts out of the alley. He hopes that the scent of garbage hasn't latched itself onto his clothes. Trying to appear inconspicuous, he ambles toward the library so that he can kill some time.

•••

Tim Drake gets himself to the Batcave as soon as he can. He all but throws himself into the chair, ignoring the questioning looks of Damian and Terry who are both sparring. He doesn't concern himself with where Jason is hiding in the house.

"Something wrong?" Terry asks.

"Remember how Bruce told us that there was an unauthorized user coming from Keystone to Gotham via zeta tube?" Tim asks, logging onto the computer. "He asked me to check it out because he's going to be too busy trying to get things at Wayne Tech settled so he can definitely make it to the show."

Damian raises a brow. "You think you know who did it," he ventures to guess. "Well?"

Tim nods, focusing his attention on checking the zeta logs. Then, he switches to finding a security feed of the coffee shop he had been in minutes ago. "I thought I saw him," he says in a breathless proclamation.

"Who?" Terry asks, confused.

The blood son watches Tim. It clicks in his head seconds later. "Grayson," he says. "You think you saw Grayson."

"You're kidding," Terry murmurs. "And on the day of the performance. This can't be a coincidence."

"I'd suggest a fake," Damian says. "Although, one would have to be an idiot to pretend to be Grayson. There's no way anyone could fool the old man into believing that he's Grayson. Besides, there's no prize if Grayson shows."

"We locked eyes, Damian," Tim informs. "He was wearing shades and a baseball cap but even under all that I could tell he looked like Dick. Then, he ran away when I was about to approach him. Why would he do that? I gathered my things and came here because I want to be sure before trying to find him."

Everyone goes silent as Tim manages to pull up a feed from the low-quality security camera. The footage is a bit grainy and it's from much earlier than what the logs recorded as the zeta usage time. He speeds it up, watching as random civilians walk down the street.

Then, he gets stops, letting the video roll by at normal speed. Tim's on the edge of the seat as he puts all of his attention on watching the screen.

A minute later, in the video, a person dressed in black (black jeans, black shoes, black jacket, black glasses, and black hat) emerges from the alleyway that the zeta tube is in. This person seems to look both ways before crossing the street and entering the coffee shop.

Before the person (who's most likely male) does, however, he looks up and straight into the camera.

Tim pauses the video and gestures for Terry and Damian to come closer.

"I... suppose he does bear resemblance to Grayson," Damian mumbles, his eyes narrowing at the image. In his mind, he's taking off the hat and glasses. If he's correct, he can clearly see a resemblance.

Still, something inside of him stirs with unease.

"I guess we should keep our eyes peeled at the performance tonight," Terry says. "If it's him, we're bringing him home."

* * *

Gardner hacking the zeta tubes was a decision made on a whim because I forgot to think about how Gardner and Wally would get to Gotham. *shrugs* Although, it seems like Wally will be a no-show after all. That, my friends, I had planned. :3

If you think the whole reveal was OOC, my defense is that Wally's subconscious is telling him he can trust Gardner. Like, a lot. A hell lot.

Oo! I had an idea... would y'all be interested in a short story that takes place in this universe? Like, before Dick disappears? And maybe even leading up to his disappearance? I feel like it'll force me to make final decisions for this story and it'll give y'all hints and stuff. :0 It'll be a few chapters long I guess? :P


	10. Chapter 10

_"The circus, Master Bruce?" says the butler, regarding the man in front of him with an inquisitive brow. "Are you certain about going?"_

 _"I want to go, Alfred," he says tiredly. "I... I've been spending too much time indoors planning Jason's funeral."_

 _Alfred purses his lips, nodding solemnly. "Will I be driving tonight?"_

 _The butler is dismissed with a small wave. In return, the older man nods silently and leaves the room because he has a few more duties to attend to before retiring to bed. Bruce just sits at his desk with his head in his hands. He's tired and he prefers staying at home to going out._

 _Except..._

 _He remembers the face of the young six-year-old named Dick Grayson. He had met the kid as both Bruce Wayne and Batman. He can still see the wide smile given to him when he was garbed in the Dark Knight's suit. It gave him hope to see such a young life so bright and undeterred by the gloominess of Gotham City._

 _And, later that night, he remembers the smell of popcorn, sweat, and city air._

 _Burned into the back of his mind are the dead bodies of the Flying Graysons and one young orphaned boy._

•••

Popcorn, sweat, and city air.

Even after all these years, the smell still remains. It smells exactly like the night Bruce Wayne watched the Flying Graysons fall. And it brings back memories because it was just a few days after Jason had died.

Bruce doesn't want to be here and neither do his sons but...

... tonight, they all need to be here.

They need to be here because tonight is for family. As messed up and awkward he and his sons are, they're family. Tonight, they're here because it's the right thing to do. And, deep down, they really do want to be here; all the more if it's for Dick.

With that in mind, Bruce watches Terry, Tim, and Damian because he has the sneaking suspicion that he's missing something. While the three boys are here physically, he can guess that their minds are elsewhere. The three of them keep glancing about and are only half-listening to Jason's ramblings.

Jason, on the other hand, is definitely here in both mind and body. He's also definitely noticed the odd behavior of the older boys. "What the fuck is up with you guys?" Jason asks, voicing Bruce's own thoughts in a more vulgar manner.

Before Bruce can reprimand him, Terry speaks up. "We're looking for someone," he answers, not tearing his eyes away from the crowd.

"Who?" Jason asks quickly. He recoils as if he had just made a mistake. Still, he stares with narrowed eyes at his older brothers.

"Who indeed," Bruce murmurs. For a moment, he thinks that they're looking for Dick because it's only logical that Dick would come tonight—if he's alive, that is; however, Bruce silently tells himself to perish the thought.

After all, Bruce had found blood on the very same night Dick disappeared. The blood sample he had taken had unfortunately matched up with Dick's. It meant that his son had fallen from a startling height and lost a lot of blood. He never told anyone about the match.

"I... Damian, we can tell them, right?" Tim asks, casting the blood son a sideways look.

In return, Damian gives a minute nod. He doesn't bother to spare a glance towards anyone or anything but the sea of people. It's just a little weird to see all the life in the dreary city of Gotham.

"Bruce, remember how the computers detected a slight abnormality in terms of transportation?" Tim says, trying to give the man a vague idea of the goings-on. He doesn't wait for Bruce to reply. "I think I've found the perp."

"Oh?" Bruce narrows his eyes ever-so-slightly.

"Our culprit is about 5'6", has black hair, and has a preference to the color black," the third eldest son says in a low voice. "Eye color unidentifiable due to a pair of heavily tinted sunglasses."

It takes the billionaire philanthropist approximately three seconds to get the gist of what is being said and it took Jason only half a second. Bruce immediately tells his boys to stop. Surprisingly, they listen.

"You think it was Dick?" Bruce asks. He frowns. "Are you sure?"

"You're joking," Jason says a little harsher than necessary. He's avoiding their eyes. "I don't believe you."

"Timmy"—the aforementioned young adult elbows Terry for saying that—"pulled up some security footage if you wanna check it out when we get home," Terry adds in. "It's terrible quality but it seriously looks like him."

Bruce purses his lips, his eyes scanning the crowd. "It's like he wants be found but is unsure."

Jason's brows shoot up. "Excuse me?"

Tim's eyes go wide and he blinks. "You're right," he says with a tone of amazement. "How did I miss it?"

"Tt. We must've been too caught up in the prospect of it really being Grayson," Damian muses. "It would've been easier to just use the tube and erase the logs—he's done it before to see West in the middle of the night once; however, he chose to create an unknown user and leave his tracks."

"And overriding the system? Anyone with access can do it with a few vocal commands," Tim murmurs. "Creating a new designation? Not exactly the easiest thing to accomplish—unless you're one of us, of course."

Jason frowns. "Wait, did someone hack into the, er, systems?"

"Right, I've forgotten, you've chosen to estrange yourself from our... family," Damian drawls. "Father informed us earlier today when you had snuck out of the house."

The once-dead male scowls. "Shut the fuck up," he hisses. He oh-so-maturely gives Damian the finger before shoving his hand back in the pocket of his jacket. Bruce is quick to scold Jason for his language. He then ushers the boys forward, telling them to start walking so they can find some seats for the show.

"Quite mature, Todd," Damian retorts. "So, Father, I still hold doubts that it is Grayson but I am curious as to who was able to temporarily input themselves into the system."

"Just keep an eye out," Bruce says. Silently, he hopes that maybe it is Dick. He wants this to be a god damn miracle.

And, unknown to everyone else, Jason makes a mental note to ask a certain sixteen-year-old about what exactly he's thinking.

•••

 _G, I hope you know what you're doing._

•••

Gardner sneezes.

He's a little miffed when no one blesses him but he tells himself that being alive and being here is a blessing of its own. He weaves his way through the crowd that's slowly dissipating into the giant red and gold circus tent. It's extravagant and the people seem excited.

Blue eyes wander around, taking in the sight. He's amazed by all the life. And he's lost in the scent of popcorn, sweat, and city air. He finds the smell of it all rather calming and he starts to feel a lot better about the entire scheme.

"You look familiar," someone says from behind him.

He whips around because he knows the words are directed at him.

"I get that a lot," he says vaguely to a girl who must be older than him. She has long blonde hair and he can see some Vietnamese features on her face. Her piercing grey eyes are looking him over and he takes in a deep breath.

She sticks out a hand, cocking out a hip and placing the other hand on it. "Artemis," she says.

He looks down at her hand and politely declines so she drops it with a small frown. Instead, he gives her a lazy smirk. "Artemis, eh?" he replies. He half-turns, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "If I have my way, we'll laugh about this someday, won't we?"

With that, he melts into the crowd and Artemis is just a little too shocked by the familiar words to bother going after him. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl places herself next to Artemis with a soda in both hands and a bucket of popcorn cradled in the crook of one of her arms.

"Artemis? You okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, yeah," Artemis says distractedly. She takes one of the sodas and nods appreciatively. "Hey, Bette, what was the name of that freshman who randomly took a picture with me when I first came to the G.A.?"

Bette raises both brows. "You mean Richard Grayson?"

"Yeah, him."

"What about him?" Bette asks, frowning. "He disappeared two years ago, didn't he?"

The half-Vietnamese girl shrugs, still staring at where the boy was last standing before he disappeared moments ago. She pulls the tab on her soda and looks at her friend. "Well, if he did then he's back now."

•••

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Haly yells in a booming voice. "Others too, of course."

It's a full house tonight. Again, Bruce notes, it smells like popcorn, sweat, and city air. It's starting to become a comforting scent. He's a little too caught up in trying to focus on the show that he actually doesn't notice when Jason discreetly begins to text someone on his phone.

"As you all know, this is the final chapter of Haly's Circus! I would like to dedicate this one last show to a boy who is practically my grandson," Haly bellows, spreading both of his arms. He smiles fondly but it's hard to see from the crowds. "His name is Dick Grayson and I'm sure you're all familiar with the name. In fact, the family he's found in Gotham is sitting in the audience! Now, I present to you the show of a lifetime!"

Bruce finds himself watching as a few performers file in. It's a beautiful chaos as so many things start happening at once. The arsenal of acts range from the swallowing of flames to juggling what appears to be chainsaws while standing on the back of a tiger. He shakes his head with a small smile, wondering just how the circus actually had the funds for all this.

He notices that his three boys seem to be enraptured by something that isn't the current performing acts. He frowns. "Try to pay attention," he reprimands. "We're here as guests of honor."

"It's him," Tim whispers in an excited hush. He points forward. "Right there. I think that's him."

"How can you be so sure, Drake?" Damian retorts harshly. "There's a multitude of people in the audience donning black."

Terry nudges the slightly younger male. "Oh, hush," he says. "Call it intuition."

"I'll call it idiocy, thank you very much," the blood son says. "We won't know unless we catch him after the show."

Despite the inner turmoil over the idea of Dick truly being alive, Bruce tells his boys to pay attention to the show once more. And they listen.

* * *

I wanted to post this chapter tomorrow but I cannot contain myself. :)

But... dun dun dun! The plot thickens... kind of. :0 The blood mentioned in Chapter 5 has been confirmed to be Dick's. To Batman, in that chapter, it seemed as though someone had dragged Dick's body to a dead end and took it but who would do such a thing? :0

Hehe. It seems like Gardner has finally met Artemis. Though, is it really their first meeting? ;)

I originally planned to bring back the C-4 and Xenothium IED bit. Then, I decided to do that when I write the Team again. Speaking of the Team, how do you think it would go _if_ Gardner finds himself in the Robin suit? How would Wally feel? How would Jason feel?

And, in case you forgot, the italicized section at the beginning is a glimpse into the past. I'll be bringing those back for a couple of chapters.

Review please? :)


	11. Chapter 11

_"Pop, hey, Pop! Look! Look at what I can do!"_

 _A small boy cartwheels forward. When he lands perfectly, he falls into a back bend and kicks himself up into a handstand and begins to walk on his hands. He twists his body and lands in a crouch where he somehow musters the strength to propel himself into a flip and he lands with a smile._

 _"That was beautiful," an aging man says, his smile making his face wrinkle up just a bit more in the best way._

 _The little boy laughs, his eyes glittering. "Mum says that soon I'll fly! Like a robin!"_

 _"A robin?" the old man repeats with a knowing smile. "Why a robin?"_

 _Proudly, the boy puffs up his chest. "It's a family name."_

•••

His name is Wallace Rudolph West and he is so done with being held prisoner inside his own home. Like, seriously. It's draining.

Two hours ago, he finished his chores. Thirty minutes ago, he finished his homework for the next two days and an essay. Five minutes ago, he started dinner.

"When dinner's over, can I please go to Gotham?" he asks, scooping some mashed potatoes onto his spoon. He glances over at his parents and they're both giving him twin looks of apologies and exasperation because it's probably the hundredth time he's asked.

He remembers very well that Gardner had told him to drop it and to not ask his parents. Of course, he didn't listen. He doesn't want to listen because he wants to be there with Gardner and he wants to know what the dead ringer meant during their conversation on the phone. Wally has a feeling that once Gardner gets back to Keystone, he won't even elaborate on his odd words.

Speaking of which, how exactly did Gardner get to Gotham? There's no way he made it over to the city on foot or by car or anything. It's possible that—

No, Wally tells himself. Rob said so himself. No one can hack a zeta tube aside from the Bat Family.

"No," Rudy says sharply. "You're staying here unless you get your uncle to accompany you."

Immediately, Wally slumps in his seat. He doesn't want to ask Barry to join him because it could potentially compromise the entire thing. Besides, even if he can get Barry to come along, his dad will probably find some reason to keep him cooped up in the house.

Most likely some excuse about how they should all spend time together as a lovely, nice, tight-knit family.

He silently continues to eat his dinner. The silence is disconcerting and somewhere in the back of his mind, Wally can hear Dick's voice telling him to make it more _concerting._ He proceeds to choke on some food, earning concerned looks.

Wally waves off the concern quickly.

•••

Artemis drops her empty can of soda on the ground when her companion suddenly wraps a hand around her wrist. She moves her head to cast a glare at Bette but she sees that the blue-eyed blonde is pointing into the distance. She follows a manicured finger and sees a group of men that can easily be recognized as Bruce Wayne and his sons.

"Look, it's Bruce Wayne and his sons!" Bette exclaims in a loud whisper. She tugs on Artemis' wrist, trying to pull them both forward. "Let's go tell him about seeing Richard."

Because she's much stronger than the other girl, Artemis stands her ground and takes a step back, making Bette stumble. Before the Kane girl can reply, the archer says, "I don't know." She finagles her wrist out of smooth hands. Then, she bends down to pick up the dropped can. "What if it was it was just a coincidence?"

"A coincidence?" Bette echoes, furrowing her brows. "Wait a minute, why did you even think that it was Richard anyway?"

"He said something to me after taking that picture," Artemis replies, her eyes clouding over a little at the memory. Even after all this time, she wonders what he meant by his words. "Then that boy said something that sounded almost exactly like it."

"It must've been pretty weird if you remember it after two years," Bette remarks. Then, she snorts. "Richard was a pretty weird kid though. Then again, I suppose that his family is pretty weird."

Artemis raises a brow. "How weird are we talking?" she asks. "Family-wise, I mean."

Shrugging, Bette pulls on a brief bemused frown. "Well, rumor has it that Jason Todd died and was resurrected," she says. "In case you didn't know, around seven or so years ago, Jason supposedly died in an explosion and, you know, he had a funeral that was a pretty big deal since it was Bruce Wayne's youngest son. A few days later, Richard comes into the picture. Fast forward to just a few weeks after Richard's thirteenth birthday and Jason is magically back to life. Story is that he didn't actually die."

The longer-haired blonde with steel eyes suppresses a shudder. Honestly, if Jason Todd actually did die and was somehow resurrected, she wouldn't be surprised. After all, much weirder things have happened in her time in Gotham and on the Team.

Then, there's a hand on her shoulder and she immediately spins around on instinct. Before she can yell at the person to keep his or her (or their) hands away from her, any vicious words die down on her tongue. Standing in front of her are Bruce Wayne and his boys. When she glances back at Bette, she sees that the other girl is just as surprised as she is.

"M-Mr. Wayne!" Bette exclaims, lighting up. She nods her head with a bob in acknowledgment. "Good evening, sir."

"Miss. Crock and Miss. Kane, correct?" Bruce says with a warm smile. He gestures towards Timothy Drake. "Tim here noticed that you were staring at us. Is there something you'd like to discuss?"

While Artemis gave a negative response, Bette says, "Yes!" Immediately, both girls look at each other and then back to the billionaire and his boys.

The blood son offers a charming smile that Artemis thinks he's using as a means to get some information out of them. "I believe that, if Miss. Kane says so, there must be something you're hiding."

Artemis gives Bette a side glare before heaving a sigh. She shuffles uncomfortably. In the two years she's been attending Gotham Academy, she had never once encountered the philanthropist in person. She's not entirely too sure of how to deal with the richer crowd outside of her small friend circle.

"This is going to sound crazy but I think I might've seen your, er, youngest son—ward?—earlier. In fact, I thought I recognized him from behind so I approached him and he said something to me that Richard did two years ago," she admits, trying to look Bruce Wayne in the eyes. Honestly, she's just as intimidated by him as she is by Batman and it's pretty unsettling.

The reaction is immediate but it isn't the one Artemis had expected. Bruce shares a wary and knowing look with his sons (except that Jason Todd fellow seems to be avoiding eye contact at all costs by glaring off to the side) and then Tim clasps both of her hands and smiles.

"Thank you, Miss. Crock," he says. "Are you sure you think it's him?"

"Wait, you believe us?" Bette asks. She turns a little crimson. "Well, Artemis, at least."

Terry McGinnis laughs and nods. "Don't tell anyone but we're pretty sure he's back," he says in a quiet voice. "Timmy here thinks that he saw him earlier and we have reason to believe that it is him."

Knowing that the males believe her, Artemis feels slightly more comfortable about discussing it. She manages to keep her eyes off the ground. "I told him that he looked familiar and he said that he got that a lot. After introducing myself, he said that if he had his way, we'd laugh about this someday—whatever _this_ is. And, well, two years ago Richard took a picture with me on my first day at Gotham Academy and told me that we'd laugh about it someday."

"Was he wearing black, by any chance?" Tim asks, stepping closer.

Artemis nods. Then, Damian turns to look at Bette with raised brows. "And were you there when Grayson supposedly approached her?"

The student liaison shakes her head, feeling a little flustered. "I was getting popcorn and soda. When I came back, Artemis was just staring into the crowd."

Before anymore can be said, Bruce claps a hand on Artemis' shoulder again and thanks her. Then, he and his company are headed off in the opposite direction. Artemis and Bette exchange looks before the latter shrugs and nods off in the direction of where they'll be picked up by one of Bette's relatives.

"See? It wasn't that bad."

Artemis just nods mutely. Now that she thinks about it, she isn't too sure about why she felt as though she recognized Richard. She never really hung out with him and while he was in a few of her classes, she never spoke a word.

For some reason, something had pulled her into talking to him. When he had turned around, she was struck with a sense of déjà vu.

Maybe it was the glasses, she thinks almost jokingly; however, she can't help but think the dark color scheme and tinted sunglasses to be familiar.

•••

Gardner leans against the side of the trailer, relying on the shadows to aid him. His hood is pulled up, hiding his face completely if one were to look at his profile. Those dark-tinted sunglasses are still perched on his nose despite the distinct lack of sunlight.

He enjoyed the show tonight. It's a pity, he thinks, that Haly will be disbanding the circus. Hopefully that will all change when _Dick Grayson_ decides to make a reappearance.

Then, he crumples to the ground because his legs are suddenly far too weak. He wonders when Haly will finally make his way back to the trailer (this is his trailer, right?) but then he's hit with a wave of nausea. He thinks that the lies are finally starting to catch up to him. Ever since the entire debacle began with Wallace West arriving at the café, he's been... conflicted.

The memories in his head aren't Gardner LaRou's. They don't belong to him. And, yet, here they are, playing over and over in his head on repeat. Even in the dead of night when he's awake in bed or working the night shift.

He just wants it all to be over. He wants to go back to the life he lived before the whole mess started. And the life he lived ended when—

"Ah, Mr. Haly, there's something I'd like to discuss with you."

Bruce Wayne, he thinks as his heart begins to hammer in his chest.

"Yeah? We can do it inside," says Haly in a tired voice. "Dick didn't show up. I... I should've known."

A pause. "Actually, we wanted to talk to you about Dick."

Timothy Drake, he notes as he begins to stand. If Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake are here, then—

"Wait a minute," he hears the voice of Damian Wayne say. "I hear someone."

Silently, Gardner curses the exceptional hearing of the blood son. He inhales slowly and quietly, wondering if he should just bolt. Maybe he shouldn't go through with the plan and just explain to Wally that it's all too much.

"Come out at once," Damian barks. Then, there are flashlights shining and the dead ringer is pretty sure they must be from their phones. He takes a step closer to the darkness, hoping the beams of light won't catch him.

Blue eyes are wide behind the glasses as he stares downwards. He steels himself, biting his lip. All right, he thinks. It's time for the greatest show of my life.

So, with his head held high, he walks out into the light.

He doesn't look at Jason out of shame, fear, and absolute nervousness.

* * *

Okie, honestly, I'm not that satisfied with this chapter. I've been working on it since the last update and I scrapped every single draft. Realizing that today is my last day of vacation, I managed to put this together. :) Updates will begin to dwindle. :(

So, the Artemis and Bette bit? Please excuse Bette, I don't know her character well. And besides, it was mostly to just explain the whole Jason Todd thing. Obviously, Jason was killed by the Joker and resurrected (like how it happened in the movie) and I just wanted to clear up why Jason can just walk around all willy-nilly without someone questioning him. Plus, Gardner's been getting the spotlight for the past chapters sooooo... yeah.

I had so much trouble writing this chapter. Gardner's time to shine in this fic? Mostly just to confuzzle y'all. And, with Wally's parents, they're just a normal family that lacks the closeness that many families have.

So, I'm kind of alluding to the fact that Artemis may find out that Robin was Dick Grayson. :0 And, the memories in Gardner's aren't his... couldn't that mean that they're Dick's? ;)

Drop any questions and suggestions in the review box. Believe me when I say that by doing that, you guys really help me know what to write. I really appreciate it. :P

Also, yes, I start my high school career tomorrow. I'm extremely nervous (social anxiety and anxiety in general and whatnot) so any words of advice or encouragement are very welcome.

Anywho, have a nice day! :)


	12. Chapter 12

_"Master Bruce? What has got you so down?"_

 _Bruce purses his lips, heaving a small sigh. His eyes slide over to the polished older man, drooping just a little. "I need to plan another funeral," he says._

 _Alfred swallows, frowning ever-so-slightly. "Another one?" he asks, standing a little straighter. "Whose, if I may ask?"_

 _"Remember Richard? The little boy I told you about?"_

 _"The one whose police call got intercepted by the Batman," Alfred says, nodding minutely. "Has anything occurred at the show? I believe you've come home just a little earlier than I expected."_

 _The billionaire runs a hand trough his hair, roughing it up just a little bit. "His parents... they fell."_

 _"Fell?" Alfred echoed, his eyes widening at the implications._

 _"Something must've been wrong with the trapeze," Bruce says because he's trying to convince himself that there wasn't any foul play involved even though it is a possibility. "Just as Richard was about to join in, his..."_

•••

His heart is racing, thudding, _pounding._ Well, yes, at first he had not been completely into the idea but he did warm up to it. Now, however, he wants to run away. Again? Really, did he ever actually run away in the first place?

What do I say? he thinks as someone steps forward. He finds that his blue eyes are cast downwards. Nothing is said as the hat is pulled off and the hood pulled down. Then, the glasses are slid off by cold hands that make Gardner hide a shiver.

Blue eyes slowly scale upwards to meet the green eyes of Damian looking down on him.

"If this is an imposter, he's certainly a good one," the blood son remarks with a smirk. Then, his eyes narrow as he holds out a hand.

Without thinking, Gardner launches himself forward and wrap his arms around where he could reach without jumping. He ignores the hand jabbing at his insides, choosing to turn his head so he could have breathing room. A second later, he speaks.

"I'm sorry I took so long," he says in one rushed breath. He tightens his hold, fisting his hands on the cloth of Damian's black turtleneck. "I'm sorry, really, I... I don't know."

"Don't touch me," Damian snaps, pulling away. There's a flash of hurt on Gardner's face before it's covered by an expression of guilt and then a blank canvas. Immediately, Bruce steps up.

In a stern voice, he says, "Damian, don't be rude."

Upon hearing that, Gardner swallows. He looks over at Bruce. "You believe me, right?" he asks quietly, acting hurt. When Bruce says no words and does nothing but stare at him, Gardner backs away with his eyes now trained on the ground.

Even though he shouldn't feel it, there's a stab of hurt when he had gotten nothing but the calculating and suspicious stare.

"Put him on the trapeze," Jason suddenly says, his eyes narrowing. "After all, once a Grayson, always a Grayson, right? You can take the brat out of the circus but not the circus out of the brat. I bet it's just some ass looking to make some money or something."

Gardner inhales sharply through his nose. Then, he looks up and gives a curt nod. His eyes lock with Jason's and they both engage in their own little silent conversation. Out loud, he says, "I'll do it if it means you'll believe me."

I'll do it, he thinks, even if it's a risk I'll have to take.

•••

Artemis stands outside the building she and her mom reside in, waving as the car rides off into the distance, carrying Bette away from the not-so-picture-perfect neighborhood the heroine lives in. After another minute of staring down the road, Artemis slips inside, locking the door behind her. She climbs the stairs and finds her mom sitting in front of the television, her head lolled over to one side.

She stands in the doorway, leaning against it with a small smile on her face. She figures that her mother must've fallen asleep while waiting for her to come home. One glance at the clock tells her that it's almost eleven and she had promised to be home by ten-thirty at the latest. With a sigh, she reminds herself to apologize profusely.

Walking over, Artemis sees the gentle rise and fall of her mother's chest. She leans down, pressing a kiss to a bare cheek and then she places a quilted blanket over the sleeping woman and lowers the volume to a low hum.

And then, as she's headed for her room, she realizes just why the boy from earlier seemed familiar.

He reminded her of Robin.

"There's no way that..."

It suddenly hits her. She remembers that she had absolutely no idea who had been under that stupid domino mask. And, when she thinks about it, the disappearance of Richard Grayson and the sudden retirement of the fifth Boy Wonder, Robin, had been too close to each other to be more than just a coincidence.

"Richard Grayson... didn't he used to be part of a group of acrobats in Haly's?" she asks herself, closing her bedroom door behind her. She brushes a hand through her hair, messing it up. "That would explain why Robin was so... flippy."

And now, those cryptic words from two years ago start making sense.

"We'll laugh about this someday," she mutters, lips twitching at the corners. "The little brat he—"

Her eyes widen and her jaw drops just a little bit.

Robin's back, she thinks. Wally needs to know this.

Her hands immediately fly to her pockets. Her left hand emerges with a sleek piece of technology gifted to her from Bruce Wayne (not delivered in person, of course) for getting high marks. She almost drops it (thankfully she didn't because the last time she did, her mother gave her a lecture on being more careful about such expensive things) and she finds Wally's name in her contacts.

" _Uh... Artemis? Do you have any idea what time it is here?"_ A yawn. " _Why are you calling me anyway? You haven't done that since—"_

"Wally," she says, cutting him off. "Was Robin's secret I.D. Richard Grayson?"

A pause. _"You do realize that his I.D. is secret for a reason, right? Otherwise it wouldn't be a secret I.D.."_

She swallows down an insult. "I know that you know his name," she chooses to say. "It was pretty obvious since you two were practically inseparable. So, tell me, was he or was he not Richard Grayson?"

Another yawn. _"Why do you want to know anyway? Jeez, it's just like you to interrupt my sleep. To think, I actually went to sleep early for once because I thought I'd be able to snooze through the night uninterrupted."_

"Okay, fine, you wanna keep playing dumb? I just thought you'd like to know that Richard's back," she quips, dropping her voice to an angry whisper so she doesn't wake her mother. "You know, since he's Robin."

 _"Wait, what?"_

"God, you never listen, do you?" she asks rhetorically, rolling her eyes. "This is exactly why we ended."

Silence. Then, an annoyed voice. _"And I thought we ended because you thought I was emotionally compromised or some other bull idea."_

She wouldn't admit it out loud but she was very close to yelling some sense into Wally West through the phone. Instead, she sighs through her nose and speaks. "That's because you were," she tells him. "You were pretty depressed when Robin apparently went into an early retirement and I took advantage of that but I broke it off when I realized that you would never like me the way I liked you."

 _"I was not depressed, Artemis."_

"Yeah," she says. "You were. You were so down because you knew that Robin wasn't in retirement, he disappeared and no one knew where he was or what happened to him."

 _"..."_

"You're not gonna talk?" she quips, frowning. "Fine. Have it your way. Bruce Wayne knows that Richard's back, by the way. Night."

Wally doesn't reply. He does, however, hang up.

"Just thought you ought to know," she snarks, dropping her hand. She ambles forward to her bed and changes into the set of pajamas she already set out. A few minutes later, she passes out on top of her sheets.

•••

When Wally hangs up, he immediately panics. This is a very bad and very dangerous situation. It's a situation they didn't need to get into in the first place. No, the possible repercussions could have been avoided had Wally not gotten such a horrible burned into his brain.

"Bruce knows that Dick is back," he says. "Wait, no, not Dick but Gardner. I— _ugh_!"

Then, he gets an idea. If he tells Barry about Dick being back, maybe the older hero will run over to Gotham with him. Then, Wally can think up a plan to get Gardner out of there without arousing suspicion. That'll work, right?

His phone is whipped out in less than a second and he calls his uncle in less than two. There's only a moment between initiating the call and the call being answered. Wally breathes a sigh of relief, hoping that everything will be well and good.

 _"Hey, kid, what's up?"_

"Dick's back," Wally says, lying through his teeth. He swallows. "At least, that's what Artemis called to tell me. It's a long story. She's convinced that Dick was Robin but I swear I didn't confirm it."

 _"He is? Seriously? Okay, get dressed but stay in civvies. We'll zeta down so just meet me at Gotham. I'll deal with your parents later. Oh, and Bruce, too."_

Wally smiles, nodding into the phone as he walks over to the closet to grab a clean shirt. "Thanks, Barry," he says. "It means a lot—as sappy as that sounds."

 _"Heh, no problemo, kid. You've been waiting too long. Make sure you tell him, 'kay?"_

Eyebrows shoot up. Before Wally can question the words, Barry hangs up. Wally curses the super-speed of his uncle and his frazzled mind, letting his phone slip through his fingers. He prays that it didn't have a cracked screen now. He just fixed it a little less than a month ago.

He sighs, using his speed to change and then he's out the door moments later.

•••

"You sure you can actually do this?" Jason asks, his tone mocking Gardner. "I bet you can't do a simple flip on that thing."

Everyone watches Gardner as he stares at the ladder. Then, he unzips his jacket and drops it to the ground. One hand latches onto one of the rungs and he nods. He turns his head to the side, glancing at them all with one blue eye.

"Course I can," he says. "We Graysons don't just flip, we fly."

* * *

Heyo! I'm so sorry it's been so long since I updated. :/ I was getting used to school, you know? I'm actually on the bus as I type this. I'll edit this later so I can properly thank you all for your advice. :)

Edit: All righty-dighty, _shadowswithouthope_ , thanks for the advice! I'm considering on joining a club. Sadly, there's no writing club. Smh. _Psych_ , thank you for your advice! I felt a little better after reading it (and everyone else's words). :) High school wasn't as bad as I thought and I'm doing my best not to procrastinate. :P And, _MusicLyric_ , good luck with your classes! And, of course, to other freshman (in both high school and college) and anyone attending school in general.

Edit 2: Also, so Artemis and Wally did briefly date after Dick disappeared. She broke it off because she realized something. ;) There will be hints of slash but romance won't dominate my story. :P

And just a btw, _Performance_ did not ever happen for the sake of plot purposes, okay? If it did happen, Artemis would be 100% certain that Robin is Dick.

Oh yeah. Just a btw, the reason the trapeze is set up is because this show is dedicated to Dick. Plus, it's a habit. :)

So, erm... review please?

Edit 3: This story may be posted on AO3 under the username of _astorii_ (my original account name).


	13. Chapter 13

_"How did you do it, Alfred?" Bruce asks, staring at the papers in front of him._

 _Alfred simply raises his brows even though he knows exactly what was meant by the question. He doesn't give an answer and simply says, "There are many things I do, Master Bruce."_

 _"You know what I mean," Bruce says, frowning. He jots down something and his left hand goes towards the phone. "When my parents died, you did the..."_

 _"It's not everyday that you see The Batman floundering with his words," says the butler in a calm tone. He sets down a steaming cup of coffee for the tired billionaire. "The funeral arrangements?"_

 _Bruce nods, ignoring the jab at his nightly persona. "How did you do it?"_

 _The butler smiles softly. "Your parents were good people and they deserved a respectful service for all they had done. Does Master Jason not deserve such a service?"_

 _"Of course he does," the philanthropist replies. His hand tightens on the pen in his hands. "So do Richard's parents."_

•••

His arms are giving off minute shakes as he begins his ascent. Gardner keeps his eyes up because he's afraid that he'll start freaking out if he even thinks about looking down. As he focuses on keeping his breathing steady to calm his hammering heartbeat, there are phantom images haunting the inner-workings of his mind.

(A light snowfall and chilly air all around. It's dark and lonely. There's someone out there—or is there?)

Gardner swallows, faltering for just a second as his foot slips. He quickly remedies the situation, tightening his grip on the next rung and hoisting himself up. The air is thick and tense and he wants nothing more than to climb back down and admit that he can't do this.

(Eyes everywhere and nowhere all at once. Fear and paranoia. His mind isn't functioning right—why isn't it functioning right?)

He's almost there. He can see the details in the wood of the platform. Carved into a board, he sees a child's scribble that reads _Dick was here_ in sloppy penmanship. He almost smiles at that but he doesn't because he's stuck in the moment.

(It's not like him to be so scared. There's someone in front of him and behind him and right there running alongside him. There's nowhere to go but down. So, he jumps.)

Gardner reaches the platform and he helps himself up. He leans against the huge support pole with one hand, amazed with himself. Then, he looks at the trapeze. The name _Flying Graysons_ rings in his head and he remembers that no net was ever used in the act.

That fact was what killed Dick's parents.

He takes one shuddering breath and as he's about to walk forward, he hears a shout coming from Jason. Gardner doesn't dare look down. He just listens.

"Wait!" Jason yells, capturing everyone's attention. If it weren't for his tough guy exterior, he would have blushed at his outburst. Instead, he continues to speak. "I believe him. Dick, you can come down now."

Gardner smiles, dropping to his knees. His arms fall limply to his side and before he knows it, he's laughing. Then, it starts to sound like a cackle that just sings of familiarity to the makeshift family of Dick Grayson. Gardner stops, bringing fingers to delicately touch his throat.

It tickles uncomfortably like an itch that won't go away. His fingers clench slightly and he wants to claw at the skin to get rid of the feeling.

He doesn't.

Down on the ground, Damian is glaring suspiciously at both Jason and Gardner. The soup of unease boiling in his insides from earlier is still there, bubbling and threatening to spill. He says nothing because he has enough heart to not ruin the atmosphere.

Slowly, Gardner is going down the ladder. If anyone noticed the way his eyes are screwed shut, then no one is stepping forward to say anything. Instead, Haly steps forward, engulfing Gardner in a bear hug.

"He's home," Terry says, smiling.

The dead ringer only nods in silence. His arms feel numb so he just lets them hang at the side during the duration of the hug. As soon as he's able to, he slips on his jacket.

Later, Haly stops Gardner before he leaves the circus. The old man says, "Because you're finally back, I won't disband the circus. That's what you want, right?"

And before Gardner goes on to follow everyone else, he smiles. "Whatever you want to do is astrous with me. Thanks, Pop." And then, just like that, he's off.

•••

Despite the metaphorically-warmer atmosphere, the ride in the car is tense and awkward. It's only a handful of minutes in that Gardner looks up from his hands to see everyone looking at him. Of course, the designated driver, Bruce, is only sparing glances via rear view mirror. Gardner sighs, sitting up straighter. He clears his throat.

"I take it you want to know what happened these last two years," he says, not bothering to turn it into a question. His throat still itches but he doesn't dare ask for a drink.

"What I want to know is who you really are," Damian immediately says, glaring at Gardner. "You are not Grayson—I know it."

"Well, it's me and you're wrong," Gardner says. "You're not very traught, you know?"

Bruce glances over at Damian in the passenger seat and then at Gardner through the rear view mirror. "Nothing a blood test or DNA test won't solve," he says. "We can go get one tomorrow with the proper authorities."

Gardner smirks. Then, he crosses his arms smugly. "Or," he says, "we can do one when we get home. You know, down in the Batcave. You used the computers to test a blood sample from when Jason was Red Hood."

Upon hearing this, Terry gives Damian a pointed look. "It has to be Dick," he says. "How else would he know all this?"

"He's done an exceptional amount of research," Damian retorts, glaring at Gardner through the rear view mirror. He scowls. "He's a _threat_."

"I'm not an impostor," Gardner shoots back. "Why won't you believe me? Terry does and so does Jason!"

"Where were you?" Tim asks, looking down at Gardner. The youngest is wedged between Terry and Tim while Jason lounges in the very back, propping his feet up on the seat in a manner that would disgust Alfred had he been here with them. Tim raises his brows, frowning.

Terry nods in agreement to the question. "You've been gone two years."

Immediately, Gardner flinches. One hand snakes up to rub the back of his neck as he smiles uneasily. "I... don't really know. All I remember from that night is running. I was scared—like someone was chasing me."

"Someone was chasing you?" Bruce asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

Gardner nods. Then, he shakes his head. And after that, he runs a hand through his hair. "Yes. No. I don't know. I felt like I couldn't think straight and I didn't know what to do."

"So, when you can't think straight, your first instinct is to jump over a fence?" Bruce says, gauging Gardner's reaction with eyes like a hawk.

Immediately, Gardner's brows rise. "What? No, my first instinct is to jump off a building. Get it right," he says. "I jumped off a building and... the last time, I... fell." His eyes cloud over, whether it be intentional or unintentional. His eyes drop, staring at his feet. "There must've been a lot of blood."

"There was," says Bruce, calmly turning the wheel towards the right. "There was enough blood to make me wonder if you even made it out alive."

Tim's eyes light up. He glares at Bruce accusingly. "I thought you said the blood test proved to be negative."

"I said nothing about the blood test aside from it was done with," Bruce replies. Then, he shifts his eyes back to the rear view mirror and then slides them back to the road. "I didn't want you to worry."

Damian scowls at his father. "We would have worried regardless of whether or not you told us that Grayson lost enough blood to potentially be dead."

Jason takes the time to grin mockingly. "Oh, so the demon spawn was actually worried? How cute."

"Oh shut your mouth, Todd, or I _will_ be forced to castrate you."

The anti-hero rolls his eyes. "You can keep throwing around threats but we all know you'll never go through with them."

The blood son's eyes glint dangerously and he twists around to scowl at the annoyance in the back seat. "Don't push it," he warns. Looking to Gardner, he says, "And you, I do not wish to spend any more time with you once we get to the manor."

Gardner stares in response.

"That's enough," Bruce says in a tone that dares them to defy him. "Alfred's probably in the middle of cooking and I want you all to sit down and have a normal dinner."

"Since when were we ever normal?" Terry asks at the same time Jason's eyes glue themselves onto the back of Gardner head.

•••

Meanwhile, at the manor, Alfred is busy preparing a small meal. After all, he assumes that the colony will be back by the time he's done with cooking. He glances at a clock left behind by Bruce's late father. It's quite late but he pays no mind.

As he's about to begin slicing, he hears the doorbell.

Obviously, it's not Bruce. The man has a key and it is his own home so there would be no need to ring the bell. And the philanthropist isn't the type to forget something so simple.

His hands clutch the knife just a little tighter and he begins to creep out of the room.

Whoever it is, he thinks, somehow knows the passcode that opens the gate. Otherwise, he or she wouldn't be ringing the doorbell.

As he nears the door, he hears a familiar voice give a muffled yell. He hasn't heard the voice in a long two years. Alfred sighs in relief, thankful that it isn't some heinous criminal who managed to sneak past the security of the manor. He loosens his grip on the knife and walks briskly towards the door. He quickly straightens himself out and then pulls the door open.

Standing in front of him are Barry Allen and Wally West. Alfred notices that the latter is close to vibrating in his spot, looking frazzled and frantic while Barry looks more reserved.

"Master Wallace, Master Bartholomew," he says, greeting them and moving to the side. "Do come in."

"Thanks, Alfred," Barry says in an earnest voice. "Is Bruce back yet?"

Wally brings his hand closer to his face and begins to bite his nails. Alfred takes notice and carefully pries Wally's hand away, making sure that the knife doesn't injure the teen. Barely smiling, Alfred says, "I believe an actual meal will be much more tasty than your nails, Master Wallace."

The British man drops Wally's hand and turns towards the kitchen. Silently, Barry and Wally follow with the former giving Wally a concerned look. Of course, the teen is too busy worrying to notice.

"To answer your question," Alfred says, "Master Bruce and the boys have not yet arrived."

"Well, you should probably prepare an extra plate," Barry advises. "Or a hundred."

"Will you be joining us tonight?" Alfred asks as he begins to chop the carrots. The rhythmic sound of the knife coming into contact with the cutting board provides a calm that Alfred found he needed.

"Us plus one," Wally answers, saying something for the first time since he arrived.

One of Alfred's brows rises. He stops cutting the carrots and puts the knife down so he can turn around. Before he can ask for someone to elaborate, words spill out of Wally's mouth.

"Dick's back."

* * *

Yo yo yo! :) I'm very surprised that I was actually able to finish this chapter so soon. I hope it's okay. :P I just wanted to dedicate a chapter to those who celebrate Rosh Hashanah!

So, saved by the metaphorical bell. Lucky you, not-Gardner LaRou. And thank you, Jason for realizing that this dead ringer was serious. Serious about what though? ;)

Just a btw, there are various times throughout this fic where I've written things in certain ways. Now, I know whether or not not-Gardner is really Dick. ;) From what I've given you, he's either Dick or a clone. Who knows aside from me?

Oh! And remember the chapter with Xenothium and C-4? I've decided that if there's a sequel, that will be one of the plots going on. You know, gotta keep things as simple as I can for now. Though, it might be mentioned or take on a mini-plot in this story.

Also, I'd like to give a special thanks to _AlecGateway_! :) The reviews left to me by this person ever fail to make my day. I swear, when I saw the latest review, I started grinning like crazy. It was kinda embarrassing. I've been meaning to do this but I kept forgetting. Whoops. XD

Anywho, anything you'd like to see in this story? Any characters? I'd like to incorporate some of your ideas in this story. I'll credit them, of course. I just wanna make this story more enjoyable for y'all. :P Since I have a better idea on where I'm going, it'll be easier for me to weave in a few ideas.

All right, that's all! Please drop a review (if you aren't too lazy) and have a great day/night!


	14. Chapter 14

_It is chilly, dull, and raining. Today is the funeral for Mary and John Grayson. Very few people are in attendance on this day, which is fairly understandable._

 _In attendance, however, is Richard John "Dick" Grayson and Bruce Wayne._

 _Richard stands in front of both caskets, staring at the polished wood. He says nothing and barely notices as Bruce joins him, bowing his head out of respect for the now-dead. Before any of them can comprehend it, Richard speaks._

" _Thank you, Mr. Wayne," he says in a quiet voice. "I, uh... I heard you paid for my parents'..."_

 _Bruce's lips quirk upwards just the tiniest bit into a sad smile. He crouches, wrapping an arm around Richard's shoulders. He notices the tending of the little boy's shoulders but he continues to maintain contact, hoping to make Richard understand that he meant no harm._

" _Your parents were good people," he says._

" _They are."_

 _They lapse back into a surprisingly comfortable silence as the caskets begin to lower into the ground. It gives the billionaire a sense of déjà vu as he watches. He almost misses a soft whisper coming from the child._

•••

Bruce unlocks the car and twists in his seat to look at his boys. He stares right at Gardner, smiling only slightly. "Come on, Dick. Alfred should have a small meal prepared and I'd like you to eat before I run a blood test."

Gardner nods, reaching over to unbuckle his seatbelt. He bites his lip and then smiles sheepishly. "I guess I'm kinda hungry."

"And I find that I'm not," Damian says. He unbuckles his own seatbelt and opens the passenger door, climbing out faster than Gardner could comprehend. "Don't expect to see me at all tonight."

"And what about tomorrow?" Gardner asks innocently.

"I believe you'll be gone by morning," is the cold reply he's given. Damian practically exudes a deep sense of disdain towards the teen. He walks toward the door with his own key in hand.

Tim slides out of his seat after opening the door and he holds it for Gardner, giving him a tight smile. "Don't mind him, Dick," he says. "Damian just..."

The dead ringer purses his lips, looking down at the ground. His eyes are hidden but swirling inside them is a vortex of inner turmoil. "I get it. It's fine, really."

Terry frowns but he walks up behind Gardner placing a hand on his shoulder and puts a smile on his face. "Come on," he says. "I want to see the look on Alfred's face when you walk in there."

"Let's hope he doesn't get a heart attack," Gardner quips, walking forward. "That wouldn't be astrous at all."

They all head for the door. Gardner's the one who places his hand on the handle and he peers over his shoulder to look at the older men. They all nod, encouraging him to push the door open since it was probably still unlocked thanks to Damian. He nods and with one quick deep breath, he throws the door open and steps inside. He looks left and right and he's clueless on where to go until Tim starts nudging him towards the dining room where the older male thinks the butler is.

And, thankfully, Alfred did not have a heart attack when Gardner walks through the door. He does, however, almost drop the precious china he's setting out. Even with the warning given to him by the two speedsters, he's still startled to see the teen.

"Master Richard," he says, trying to contain his shock. He regards Bruce and the others with an inquisitive look. "Forgive me for asking but are you sure it's him?"

"It's me, Alf," Gardner says, trying to ignore Wally and the other man who sit at the dining table. "Yeesh, everyone's too paranoid for their own good, huh?"

Alfred gives a small smile. "Welcome home, Master Richard. You've been greatly missed these past two years."

Gardner nods. "So I've been told," he says. "I'm pretty overwhelmed right now. Usually, I'd be whelmed but being back is just... wow."

It's Bruce's turn to place a hand on Gardner's shoulders. "We'll be testing his blood in the cave but I'd prefer that he eats a little first." He looks down at Gardner just as Gardner looks up at him. "I'm inclined to believe it is Dick."

Barry nudges Wally, grinning as he looks towards Gardner. "Glad you're back," he says.

"Glad to be back, Barry," Gardner says, forcing himself to look at the speedster. It's a rather challenging task but he manages to look over at Wally and smile. "Hey, Walls."

"D-Dick," Wally stutters out. He feels the urge to bite his nails. Instead, he drums the pads of his fingers on the wooden surface he's seated at. Inside, he's dealing with an onslaught of confusing emotions. If he didn't know any better, he would think that Dick really is back.

And he wishes he didn't know any better.

"You okay, dude?" Gardner asks, furrowing his brows. "You don't look too hot. You look kinda..." He trails away, gesturing with his hand as if he can conjure up a word just like that. Obviously, he doesn't and ends up floundering.

His fellow teen nods slowly. "I'm just... It's good to see you again. I kinda missed you?"

"And I kinda missed you too," Gardner replies, forcing himself to smile. Then, he frowns and looks between both speedsters suspiciously. "Why _are_ you here?"

The billionaire of the house looks to the supers. "There was an unauthorized transportation from Keystone to Gotham," Bruce says. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"An unauthorized what now?" Wally asks, looking flabbergasted. "From Keystone? _Keystone_? You're not saying that..."

"As much as I would like answers, I would prefer to get them when you're all seated with a meal in front of you," Alfred says. No one bothers to protest.

Everyone moves, picking a seat. Gardner gravitates closer to Wally, plopping himself down in the seat right next to the other teen. The rest of them are seated wherever's closer. Of course, Damian came through with his words and is nowhere to be seen. If anyone's willing to fetch him, they don't say.

Alfred leaves the room empty-handed and returns with a metal cart. Settled on top is what the man's prepared as a small meal. Had this family been a non-crime fighting family, he would've condoned eating past eight; however, he's far too used to preparing small meals late at night even if there hadn't been much fighting done that day.

"Tonight's meal happens to be one of the Austrian dishes Master Terrence has recommended. I do hope it's to your liking," he says. When he puts a fair amount of food on Gardner's plate, he smiles. "I'll have cookies ready before you retire for the night."

Gardner nods gratefully. He's been doing that a lot—nodding, that is. He just doesn't know what to say and he's feeling more than overwhelmed. Letting out a small, breathy laugh through his nose (his throat still tickles), he steals a glance at Wally. The older teen is focusing on the food on his plate.

The doppelgänger doesn't see the speedy glances Wally keeps giving him.

For the first ten or so minutes, the meal is silent aside from the clattering of spoons and forks and knives against the plates. Then, Bruce speaks.

"So, Dick, what have you been doing these past two years?"

Looking up from the delicious food, Gardner places his knife and fork down. He shrugs. "At first, I had no idea what was going on. I had trouble... remembering? I must've hit my head way too hard when I hit the ground," he says, laughing mirthlessly at his own joke. "I woke up and I was all patched up and my uniform was laying on the floor next to me but I was wearing someone else's clothes and I was delirious so I didn't think anything of it. I guess I just... bolted? I found myself in Keystone, someone helped me get back up on my feet, and it went from there. I just lived my life as a new person."

Tim raises his brows. "You couldn't remember? Anything? Nothing at all?"

"If I did, my first thought would be to come back to you guys," Gardner says in a dry voice. He looks down. "I wanted to go back but I didn't know what I wanted to go back to, you know?"

Terry nods thoughtfully. "So, why are you back now?"

"I saw a newspaper," he admits, not lying by much. "At first, I was just curious. I looked up Richard Grays—er, me, I guess, and I started wondering if— _hey,_ maybe it's me! I only came tonight because I just wanted to see if Pops would recognize me. I mean, I spent a few days thinking and I found myself remembering the little things and, of course, the big things. Tonight confirmed it for me and here I am?"

Barry frowns. "All this time, you had been in Wally's city," he says. "Part of my territory. I... Dick, I'm sorry I didn't find you any sooner."

"Yeah," Wally adds, trying to smile. "Me too."

Gardner smiles back at them and decides to look over at Bruce. He doesn't miss the storm in those eyes. He swallows. "You okay there, Bruce?"

"Someone knows you're Robin," Bruce replies. "And has known for two years."

The atmosphere changes quickly. Hoping to rectify the situation, Jason pipes up. He looks a little unsure of what to say though. "Well, two years is a long time. Whoever knows would've done real damage by now if they were a deranged fucker."

"What if they did but we don't know...?" Tim says, narrowing his eyes at what's left of his meal.

Barry bites his lip and looks at all the members. "Surely someone would've done something major by now, right? I mean, if you know Robin's identity, it can't take much to figure out Batman's. And you know how many would kill to know who you are."

That must have been a bad thing to say on Barry's part. Bruce scoots his chair out, not bothering to care if he scratched up the floor with the force. He brings a fist to his mouth and clears his throat. He levels them all with a pointed glare. "I'll be downstairs," he says. Then, he looks at Gardner. "I expect you down there in the next half hour to run some tests."

Gardner can only nod before Bruce turns swiftly and walks out of the dining room. Once again, the atmosphere is tense and not as happy as it had been earlier. Now, it seems, the "return" of "Dick Grayson" is not the most momentous of occasions.

Barry speeds off after the man, saying something about how he'll fully explain why he and Wally were in Gotham.

"I'm going to my room," Gardner says abruptly, standing up and pushing his chair back. He winces and gives a quick apology. He looks down at Wally. "Walls, you coming with?"

"Of course!" Wally says in a voice that's much louder than necessary. "Since you're back, how about we start up the gaming system? How does a quick one v. one sound?"

"Astrous." Gardner just snatches the speedster's wrist and pulls him along.

•••

In a hushed and angry whisper, Wally says, " _Dude_! We need to get you out of here!"

Mere seconds earlier, Gardner had found his way to the room he said he'd be going to. And only moments before those words rushed out of Wally's mouth, he closed the door and locked it, flicking the lights on.

"I'm being serious," Wally grounds out when he notices Gardner rolling his eyes. "You may have fooled Bruce but as soon as he runs those tests, the jig is up. You—how did you even fool him up to now?"

Gardner scowls, producing a Bat-level glare. "Keep your voice down, _Wally._ You gave me those flash cards, didn't you? They held practically all I need to know."

"Those were just so you could fool Mr. Haly if he asked you anything about Dick's life," Wally retorts angrily. "You may have the face and voice and all that but you aren't him."

Immediately, Gardner recoils. He looks smaller as the animosity on his features melts away into an unfamiliar expression. He's quick to stand straighter and school his features. "Look, West, I... Wally, there's something about Grayson's disappearance that—"

" _I know, I"_ —Wally sighs and runs a hand through his hair, leaning against the closed door—"know. If there wasn't, Rob would've..."

Gardner doesn't like the way Wally's staring at him after trailing off. It's as if he's a curious specimen that the older teen's trying to investigate in some high school science lab experiment. Adding to that, Wally looks kind of... betrayed?

"From what I'm getting at," Wally says, "you know a lot about when Dick disappeared. You implied that he was Robin when he went missing. How did you know that? I don't think I've told you. It doesn't make sense. _You_ don't make sense."

The blue-eyed boy takes a step back as his features morph into a confused affect. "What are you trying to say?"

Wally steps closer, breathing in Gardner's personal space. "I'm trying to say that maybe you actually _are_ Dick."

Gardner stops breathing.

"Are you?"

* * *

Oh my, it was really hard writing this. I know, I know... their reactions to "Dick" being "back" are kind of subdued but let's blame it on shock and trying to look tough. ;)

Your reviews kind of motivated me to get a chapter out as soon as possible. :) It's a little rough but it's a chapter. You can probably tell that I struggled. You know, gotta take care of those continuity errors and loopholes and the whole shebang. Still gotta cover a lot of those. That's the price to pay for not thinking this through. :P

 _PsychedelicCat_ , I'm pleased to know you found that last chapter exciting. As for Gardner and Wally's "reunion", I was going for conflicting emotions on Wally's part. Then, when they were alone I was going for some negativity. Maybe you can figure out why I was going for that. XD

As for _AlecGateway_ , I hope this update was pretty decent. :P Still love reading your reviews, I gotta say. Getting Gardner out of trying the trapeze was me torturing my readers. ;) And I hope this cliffhanger was frustrating. Making my readers suffer is my way of showing I love them.

 _Psych_ , haha, thanks for reviewing. :) My favorite/least favorite classes? Honors Biology is great but (surprisingly) Honors Algebra 2 isn't as bad as I thought. I actually kinda really like it? Oh! My least favorite class has to be chorus. And, if you knew me in real life, you'd have thought I was joking. XD I think my teacher has it out for me. Eep. Anywho, I like your thinking. I do love a good angst fic where Dickie has to suffer. I love reading fics where characters suffer. I'd write one but I suck at conveying emotion through my writing. :P

And _GenderBender25_ , haha, thank you so much! I've been writing since... fifth grade? I didn't start writing fanfiction until sixth grade...? I actually was a terrible writer. I'm not being humble or anything. I had terrible grammar and punctuation and I just—eep. And, Red X, eh? Gotta love Red X, ya know?

Oh, so, just so you know, the reason Dick's room was unlocked was because Alfred was cleaning and couldn't bring himself to lock the door. Kapeesh? XD


	15. Chapter 15

" _Welcome to Wayne Manor, Richard," Bruce says, turning in his seat to give Dick an awkward smile._

 _The little boy struggles for a moment or two but he manages to push the door of the car open. He unbuckles his seatbelt and then slides out of the car. He stumbles but catches himself by grabbing the car door._

" _Ah, Master Richard, I was going to open the door for you but it appears that you've done so already."_

 _Dick blinks, recognizing the polished man as the old guy who stayed to the side during his parents' funeral. He flushes and his eyes dart back to the door. He takes a step back. "I'm sorry," he says. "I'll go back inside so you can do it."_

 _Much to his surprise, the old man chuckles and smiles softly. "That won't be necessary. You may call me Alfred. I've prepared some cookies for your arrival. I hope you like chocolate chip."_

 _Despite recent events, Dick finds the strength in himself to smile brightly and nod. Then, he looks over at the mansion and he can't help but drop his jaw in shock._

•••

Scoffing, Gardner brushes past Wally and makes sure to purposefully bump his shoulder because the older teen is rooted to his spot like a tree. He stops only a few steps away from the bed. It's only then that he peers over his shoulder with narrowed eyes that look anywhere but Wally's own. After all, it's said that eyes are the windows to one's soul.

He decides that he doesn't need to see Wally's vulnerability.

"What do you think, West?" he says in a voice that's almost a sneer. He's surprised to see a distinct lack of emotion being betrayed on that freckled face. His eyes remain narrowed but any negative emotions that leaked into his blue eyes disappear before he can say anything.

Silent and stoic, Wally stands before he crumples. He falls backwards, luckily having the door there to keep him from really hurting himself. A sigh leaves its prison and he suddenly looks more tired than Gardner had ever seen him.

"Of course I'm wrong," he says, allowing his eyes to fall shut. "The world doesn't work that way—never does." His last words are spoken in a tone that show hints of despair and saddened exasperation.

Gardner says nothing at first. Instead, he softens his features and turns around, moving just a little closer to Wally. It's close enough that he catches the faintest whiff of cologne and cheap deodorant. He offers a tight-lipped smile that goes unseen.

Then, he licks his lips and looks down to the floor. "Do you want me to leave?" he asks in low voice that isn't quite a whisper but is close to it. Wally says nothing. "I'll leave if you want me to but... you know if I leave, I'll end up hurting all of them. I don't... _you_ don't want that, do you?"

Green eyes become visible once more. Gardner looks away as Wally speaks. "I don't but... you know, I never should've asked you to do this in the first place."

He doesn't know what to say. "You had good intentions," Gardner says slowly, unsure if he should be saying anything in reply. "It's my fault for getting caught by Wayne but... yeah, you had good intentions."

"You did too," Wally says. He swallows. "Can you... can you please look at me? I feel kind of weird."

Gardner bites his bottom lip, eyes darting around. Finally, he resigns himself and meets Wally's gaze. Blue meets green—just like earlier tonight except it's a better, warmer green. He says nothing. Then, he sighs.

"You should leave," Wally mutters. "You probably have a life. You shouldn't be wasting it trying to live someone else's."

"That's the thing, West," Gardner replies. "I don't. My parents are dead, I don't have many friends, I work the night-shift every single night, and I don't know what to do with myself whenever I'm awake during the day."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Wally straightens himself, rocking on his heels. A minute into an awkward, tense silence, he speaks. Neat and tidy and on the floor, Wally spots a gaming system that (two years ago) can be described as the present all little kids wanted for his or her (or their) birthdays. "Wanna play a game?"

"That sounds okay."

Gardner guides himself over to the bed. He slowly climbs in, getting used to the feel. It's rather soft and comfortable and not at all like his bed at the apartment. He missed this sort of luxury. Before he can really immerse himself in the comfort, he hears the sound of a gaming system start up.

On the floor, Wally's sitting in a cross-cross position. His eyes flicker to the screen when he turns on the device. He remembers sitting here, on the floor of Dick's room, playing video games until late into the night.

He watches as the starting menu of the last game Dick ever played loads up. He passes a controller to Gardner and takes one for himself before pressing start.

Before the video game really starts, Wally says, "I miss him."

•••

Bruce watches the seconds tick away. A few minutes ago, he had convinced Barry to report back to his wife and to apologize to Wally's parents as soon as morning hit. Just when thirty minutes was about to pass, he hears a voice call out to him.

"Sorry, Bruce," Gardner says. "Wally and I got a little carried away."

"How many times?" Bruce asks with just the tiniest hint of an amused smirk. He's referring to the amount of times Dick had beaten Wally but he wants to think of this as a mini test.

"About ten times," Gardner replies. He doesn't comment on the fact that Bruce is decked out in his uniform for his night job.

The man instructs him on what he's going to do. Basically, Bruce is just going to find a safe spot, sterilize it, and insert a syringe to draw some blood. Maybe a hair sample or saliva will be added as an extra test. He's not sure.

Gardner wrestled himself out of his jacket and it falls to the ground. Albeit hesitantly, he raises his right arm and bares it for the man to use to take the blood. At Bruce's inquisitive stare, which he attributes to the hesitance, Gardner lies and says that he's just worried that even with the test, he won't be believed.

Bruce doesn't reply as he finds an alcohol wipes and rubs it over the naked skin. Gardner almost shivers but then he watches with gross fascination as a needle is inserted and red seeps into the tube.

"Think you'll need me to do a quick spit?" he asks.

"Not unless you want to," Bruce says.

Scrunching up his features, Gardner shakes his head. "Not today, thanks."

Bruce allows himself to chuckle as he begins the process. The wait is only a handful of moments. On the left-hand screen pops up a grey box with a white silhouette of a person, while on the right happens to pop up a picture of the fifth Boy Wondet, Robin. It seems to be part of a bigger picture but Gardner finds that he's distracted.

98.7% match to Richard Grayson

A smug smile is allowed to grace Gardner's lips. He steps closer to the screen, placing himself alongside Bruce. He looks at the man. "See? You had nothing to worry about."

"Drop that cocky look, chum," Bruce admonishes, unable to hide the tiniest hint of relief as he reads and rereads the results over and over again. To him, Dick is home, safe and sound. "I think it's about time you go get some sleep."

"Can Wally stay over?" Gardner asks. "Or does he have to zeta back to Keystone?"

Turning to look into those familiar blue eyes to say no, Bruce finds himself floundering when he sees a pleading expression. "All right. Don't stay up too late though,"

A thankful grin is sent his way and then, just like that, Gardner runs off and back upstairs. Not even five minutes later, the biological son shows up. Damian says nothing for a few seconds as he's most likely staring at the results on the screen.

"I suggest you test that blood once more, Father," he says. "Perhaps there's something you've missed."

"My technology is in its best form," Bruce says. "I assure you that it makes no errors."

That doesn't seem to quell the annoyance. Damian's insistence on the blue-eyes boy being a fake is a wild fire; it cannot be doused so easily. He scowls. "Something is wrong with that impostor," he retorts. "He's different from Grayson."

"Two years, Damian," is what's said back. "Two years can change a person. Time always does."

"That's not it! He... something's off. I know about the construct of time and how it changes a person but that's not what I mean."

"Who could he be if not Dick?"

Damian purses his lips. "A clone. I don't know."

Bruce sighs, getting up. He turns and his cape flares as he walks toward the Batmobile. He gets inside and gives his son one final look. "Give him a chance to prove it's him then."

And with that, he pulls out of the cave and drives off.

"Tt."

•••

Nimble fingers fly over the buttons and sliders on the controller. On the left-hand screen, WINNER flashes in block letters. Wally lets out a groan and throws his hands up in the air.

"Dude, you're, like, impossible to beat!"

Gardner smirks. When Wally catches sight of this quirks of the lips, his own features contort. The smirk is dropped back into a blank line. They don't say anything for a few seconds and just stare at each other.

Finally, Wally falls back on the bed. He breaks the eye contact to turn off the system. "I'm beat, dude. Let's crash for the night."

"Sleep? At this hour?" Gardner says, feeling a sense of panic welling up inside of him. He had forgotten about the night terrors and the sleepless nights.

"Not everyone can pull multiple all-nighters in a row, Dick," Wally retorts. Then, he freezes and he looks over at Gardner. "Sorry, I forgot that you..."

"It's fine," Gardner says.

Wally purses his lips. "You just... I thought... you passed the blood test, right? How?"

The subject change ignites something uneasy in Gardner. He doesn't know how to respond. "Just hacked the system," he says— _lies_.

"Oh."

"Goodnight," Gardner says abruptly. He gets up, sliding off the bed. He heads over to the light switch. Before flicking it off, he says, "Still need the light?"

Wally shrugs. "I usually just shared the bed," he says. "Unless you want me to find a sleeping bag then no."

"No, no," replies the other boy. He turns off the lights, leaving them in total darkness. "Just go to sleep, West."

When Gardner finds his place under sheets, just inches away from Wally, he closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing. He doesn't want anyone to know the severity of his nightmares.

* * *

Hehe. If you squint, there's a bit of slash between Gardner and Wally in this chappie. To those asking if there'll be BirdFlash, I can't call it BirdFlash just yet or I reveal whether or not it's actually Dick. We'll go with slash, okay? Though if you're really curious, anyone with an account can PM me and I'll spill. ;)

So, again, your reviews really motivated me to get another chapter out. Interaction between authors and their readers is great man. ;) I love getting the notifs because it means y'all enjoy my story and that means the world to me.

Y'all really seem to enjoy my characterization and generally my way of writing? :) That means a lot so thank you! I'm trying to find a style? Haha. I like to think I have a certain flair with my writing.

 _Psych_ , haha. My teachers recommend us for honors at my school. Apparently all my former teachers believed I was... good? enough for all honors. Like, I guess I am but I'm not so sure if my mental health agrees. You get me? XD I'll keep in mind your warning for when the time comes. Also, I'll consider your offer. ;) I've been thinking of this story of the angst genre involving my favorite heroic teens.

 _AlecGateway_ , thank you so much! I'm glad you found reason behind their reactions. I tried my best to keep them as true to their character as possible, which is hard. Tho, this is a fanfic so... Anywhoooo, you should definitely write a oneshot! I would love to read it. :)

I've been wanting to illustrate some of the scenes in my story. My issue? I don't have the time or commitment to do that but I would kill (not really killing's bad don't do it) to see scenes from my story being brought to life. Maybe one day I'll do it.

Edit: My apologies if the last section seems rushed. I was literally typing it on my phone during lunch. Whoops? :3


	16. Chapter 16

Seconds, minutes, _hours_ trickle by in his mind. In reality, it's only been about an hour. Maybe less than that. All he knows is that Wally's been asleep for the past few minutes and he's nowhere near ready to fall asleep.

A change in sleeping position has done nothing to lull him into the fearful hands of sleep. He's avoided sleeping on the side that gives him the perfect view of Wally's sleeping face. It will do him no good if Wally is to wake up and see Gardner staring right at him.

He sighs through his nose. He wants to get up and fetch a cup of water but he doesn't like the idea of roaming the halls and potentially getting confronted by Damian. Frowning, he moves to lay on his back to stare at the ceiling.

Gardner decides that it's too quiet. There's nothing but Wally's constant breathing and that isn't enough. The thoughts in his head begin to get louder and he screws his eyes shut, willing for sleep to take him in its arms.

Somehow, it works.

•••

Dick's older brothers minus one blood son meet in the dining room. Each one of them is seated, spread out with at least two chairs between them. None of them speak. Jason decides to place his boot-clad feet on the table, uncaring of how Alfred would scold him come morning.

Honestly, Jason doesn't want to be here but he also doesn't want to be at risk of being interrogated by Damian. He knows that Damian suspects something and he can see why. After all, Damian's gotten to be far more paranoid than Bruce and had taken notice to Jason's odd behavior. So, meeting with the Brothers Bat becomes the longer end of the stick.

"So," Tim says. "Dick's home."

Terry nods, smiling a tight smile. "Yeah. It's kind of hard to believe, huh?"

In order to have something to add in, Jason shrugs and leans back in his seat. "I can't believe you guys actually couldn't find him." He snorts.

Shooting him a fixed glare, Tim says, "You weren't any help at all, Jason. You didn't even try to look for him all because you hated him for being a better Boy Wonder."

Jason tenses up. He takes his feet off the table so that he can lean forward and glare back at his predecessor. Because he's not five, he holds back the urge to blow a raspberry or something equally as immature. "Piss off, Timmy," he replies in a heated voice. "I did _not_ hate him."

Terry's smile turns uneasy as he looks between both boys. He remembers when they were both constantly at each other's necks; Jason because he knew he could never be as good of a Boy Wonder as Tim and then Tim because Jason just knew how to get on his nerves. Honestly, he's surprised that the two haven't thrown any punches ever since Jason arrived at the manor.

"If you're going to start a fight, keep your voices down and don't get blood anywhere. Alf's going to kill you guys if he knows that you two decided to brawl it out in the dining room."

"Oh, ease up," Jason retorts. "The man's got ESP or something. He _always_ knows even if you got rid of every single damn piece of evidence."

Terry resists the urge to facepalm. "All right," he says. "Don't even think about starting a fight—but if you're going to start one, it better be verbal and it better be quiet or we're dead."

The rogue son sighs and falls back against his chair. He rolls his eyes and flips off Terry before looking off to the side. "So, with Goldie back, what do you suppose we do?"

Everyone goes silent, looking at each other. They had never been in this situation. Well, Jason may have returned from the dead but he was too busy committing genocide and being the biggest ass he could possibly be once he publicly came back.

Then, an idea sparks in Terry's head. "I think we should hold off on reintroducing him to the press," he says. "Let him get settled first and that. Plus, we have to decide who comes back first: Richard or Robin."

Jason scowls but Tim's the first to say something. "Slow down, Terry. What if Bruce doesn't let Dick out on the field again? What if he's out of shape because, if what he says about living life as a new person is true, there's always the possibility that he's not at the top of his game like he was back then."

"He's not going back out there," Jason grounds out. "It's too dangerous."

"That's Bruce's call, not yours and not ours," Tim says back, rolling his eyes.

"Well, you can be damn sure that I'll convince him to keep Goldie out of the business." Jason crosses his arms in a way that doesn't look like how a kid having a tantrum would do so. It will do no good to his image to have him mimic the actions of a distraught five-year-old.

The oldest male has to hold his hands up in a placating manner. He tries to smile at the both of them. "So, moving on... do you think Damian's going to be stop being a jerk to Dick?"

Jason snorts, giving Terry a look that conveys the stupidity of that question. "Course not," he says. "He thinks he's always right."

The other boys ignore the jab at the blood son and instead purse their lips and think. Then, Tim pipes up, pointing out the details of Gardner's story. If what was said is true, someone or someones know that Dick Grayson is Robin. And for the past two years. Obviously, that doesn't bode well with any of the members.

It's possible that everyone who's been part of the Dynamic Duo has had their identity compromised in the past two years without even knowing it.

And the thought of that really does suck.

"So, what do—"

A scream rips through the air. Immediately, Jason jumps out of his chair, not caring as it falls to the floor, and runs.

" _Dick_ ," Tim says sharply, nodding over to Terry. They follow suit and run like Jason with nothing on their minds but protecting their little brother.

•••

Wally wakes up, startled. He sits up with his chest heaving. He realizes the screams belong to Gardner. Looking down, he can barely make out the outline of Gardner's fear-stricken and sleeping face.

He starts panicking, biting his lip as he watches the boy. Then, he remembers that Gardner has been ailed with horrible nightmares. Wally shakes his head, trying to snap himself out of his stupor. His features take on a determined affect as he fumbles with one hand to turn on the bedside lamp.

Immediately, he gently shakes Gardner. "Hey, man, wake up. You're okay. It's okay."

Those words have no effect as the blue-eyed boy begins to thrash about. With lightning fast reflexes, Wally pins his arms down and ends up straddling him. He ignores the position, focusing on coaxing the other male to awaken with his voice.

"Dude. _Dude, please, wake up._ "

Seeing that expression on Gardner's face strikes a chord within him. For a moment in time, Wally forgets who the boy is. He gets off, still holding down those arms and staring straight into that face.

"Dick, you're okay. Everyone's okay. Just, please, wake up. Dick, come on, I promise that whatever's happening in your nightmare isn't happening in real life."

That does something and Gardner shoots up in bed, eyes wide with terror and breathing all ragged. His bangs are stuck to his face due to sweat and he can't bring himself to say anything. Instead, he looks down where Wally's hands connect with his arms and then he looks into those green eyes.

It's only then that Wally remembers that it's not Dick he was trying to awaken.

The door swings open harshly and light floods the room. Jason is huffing just a little bit before he composes himself, noticing that Gardner is okay. He lets out a sigh of relief.

"Nightmare?" he asks, frowning.

"Yeah," Gardner says in a breathless voice. "Sorry, Jason."

Tim and Terry appear behind Jason. Seeing the traces of distress on Gardner's face, they move past their other brother and into the room. Tim looks at Wally and Gardner, raising his brows.

"Hey, Dick, you okay?" Terry asks, walking over. He sits himself on the bed, rubbing Gardner's back.

Wally looks a little lost as he stares off into a distant land no one else can see. No one bothers to ask if he's okay but that's fine. The blue-eyed doppelgänger is the one whose well-being is concerned. In fact, the boy is only now just quivering slightly from remnants of those foul dreams.

"I'll be okay," Gardner says, giving everyone a shaky smile. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I've been having nightmares for a while now and I thought maybe they'd be gone but..."

"What's going on here?" a calm voice asks in an accusatory tone. It's Damian. He's standing in the hallway, peering in with narrowed eyes of distrust. "I was about to retire when I heard the impostor scream."

Gardner flushes pink. The distress and fear melt away into something else entirely. Whatever it is, his expression looks so small. "Sorry, Dami, I just—"

"Don't call me that," Damian snaps. "Now, since no one appears to be dying, I'll go inform Pennyworth that there is absolutely nothing wrong. Do not let this happen again."

"I'm sorry," says the boy, frowning as the blood son disappears. He slumps, crossing his arms. "You can all go back to sleep."

Tim gives him a deadpan look. He, too, sits himself down on the bed next to Terry. He leans forward to look over at Gardner. "Dick, are you sure you'll be okay? I know you have Wally with you but I'll stay if you want."

Terry offers the same idea and both he and Tim look over at Jason, wondering if he'll agree. Scoffing, the male rolls his eyes and leaves. Wally mumbles something under his breath.

"I just remembered that I have some homework I need to finish. I'll just zeta back."

Quickly, Wally fumbles out of the bed and out the door. No one says anything as he zips down the hall and out of the mansion. Gardner doesn't buy the excuse but, again, he says nothing. Then, he looks over at the two older males.

"I'd rather be alone right now," he tells them. "I'll admit, that dream wasn't astrous at all but I'll be fine. Promise."

•••

It's now around six in the morning. Gardner has not been able to get another wink of sleep. He decides that later today he'll take a nap. He slips his hand inside his pocket, pulling out his phone. He looks at it, reminding himself that he'll need to get rid of it at some point because Bruce will figure out that one of his sons had been in contact with him before Gardner revealed himself to the family.

He unlocks it, opening up his messages. He shoots off a quick text to someone.

 _Hey Gardner, can you tell the boss that I quit the job? No one ever came to the shop past ten anyway. I left the city and I don't think I'll be coming back._

He slides out of bed and ambles over to the closet. Grabbing onto the first long-sleeved shirt he could find, Gardner smirks to himself. Then, he grabs more clothes from the dresser and heads for a bathroom to take a shower. He mentally reminds himself to go to one that probably has shampoo that hasn't expired.

* * *

Hello, hello! :) So, I'm surprised how many of you were actually interested in hearing some of my secrets about this story. Then again, as I've been told, it's one thing to know the plot and another to read it. :P

And don't worry, I haven't forgotten about the real Gardner LaRou. He might make an appearance next chapter.

Okay, so, I probably won't update for a week or two after this chapter. I have a test in Algebra 2. And, as I've been told by my teacher, because I'm in an Honors class, I only get one class period aka 90 minutes to finish it and I cannot use my calculator at all. :/ I'm very nervous so, please, wish me luck! And a few other tests and quizzes. I gotta study, right? :3

I had a hell lot of trouble writing the nightmare scene. You probably won't learn what happened in his nightmare for a while. Who knows? ;) You are free to guess what happened though.

And, if you've been paying attention, Wally definitely lied. I wonder why? ;)

Oh! So, I bought a Batman costume. Hehe. And a time turner. Anywho, so, the costume is a romper with a detachable cape and a hood. :P I'm planning to wear it for my school's spirit week. I'm thinking of wearing my fishnets and these kickass wedges. And the sleeves have thumb holes! :0 Idk why but I love thumb holes.

Anywho, so, I plan to drag this story on. I plan to end it around 25 chapters. Maybe 30.


	17. Chapter 17

At seven a.m. in Keystone, a certain brunet wakes up. He takes one look at the digital clock on his bedside table and groans. He thanks himself for having the brain to close the blinds last night so there isn't much sunlight glaring in his eyes.

He picks up his pillow, dropping it over his face so he can at least pretend that the world doesn't exist for a few more minutes. Probably after fifteen minutes of some shut-eye, he sits up and the pillow falls to his lap. The first thing he does is grab his phone.

Turning it on, he sees that he's gotten a text from a certain Dan Degnar. He scans over its contents and raises his brows.

"I don't know what kind of trouble you've gotten yourself into," he says, "but good luck."

So, he prepares himself for another day of work.

•••

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day and don't ever forget that. Today, however, Gardner finds that he isn't very hungry. With damp hair and a dampened mood, he stirs the cup of tea he's been given.

Earl grey, he thinks.

As of right now, he's the only one at the table. Everyone else is still holed up in their rooms and Alfred's busy in the kitchen. He had offered to help the man but was turned down and ordered to sit down and relax for a few minutes.

He brings the cup to his lips and sips. He flinches at the burning heat but he makes no move to stop drinking. His eyes shut and when he opens them, he sees a head of black hair. Gardner places the cup down and sees Jason sitting himself on the chair opposite of him.

"Morning," Gardner says.

Jason nods. He's about to place his feet on the table when Alfred calls out, telling him that he should think twice about what he's doing. Jason blanches and places his feet back on the ground, looking everywhere. The butler is nowhere in sight.

Creepy.

"Damn," he mumbles. "He always knows."

"I thought we established that fact years ago," Gardner drawls with a lazy smirk. "How was your night?"

"Feels weird being back in my room," Jason says with a frown. His eyes harden and he casts them downwards so Gardner doesn't have to see the storm of emotions.

Feeling a little sympathetic, the blue-eyed boy nods in agreement. He swallows. "I get what you mean," he says. "After all this time, it's like being in another world that's vaguely familiar. It's like that dream you dreamed once upon a time ago except it's real."

They lapse into a comforting silence. Though, the thoughts in Gardner's head keep getting louder. It's like a school of fish is swimming as fast as possible and away from a predator. Except, he can't seem to think of what the predator in his mind is.

Gardner finishes off the cup of tea. "Wally left by the way."

Jason swallows. He looks into Gardner's eyes and they converse silently for a few seconds. Then, out loud in a quiet mumble, he says, "Just so we're clear, I never hated you."

Brunet brows rise and the blue-eyed boy has to hide a smirk. He stretches a little across the table, moving an ear closer to the older boy. "I couldn't really hear you," he says in a singsong voice. "What was that you said?"

"Fuck off, _dick._ I _know_ you heard me."

"I can't tell whether you mean my name or the crass language but I'll go with the latter," Gardner says, smirking openly now. "You're a little distraught, heavy on the dis."

Ignoring him, Jason scowls at the wood of the table. "Last night, two of the idiots and me were talking about the whole... Robin thing."

The smirk slides off of Gardner's face and he falls back into his seat. He frowns, raising his brows at the other boy. "Let me guess, you don't want me out on the field but they think that it's Bruce's call."

"Damn right."

"I want to go out on the field," Gardner says. "I want to be Robin but I don't think I'm ready for that. Two years, Jason. It's been two years and I just..."

"Morning, Jason, Dick," someone says. It's Tim and he invites himself in the seat to the right of Gardner. The aforementioned boy gives him a tight smile as he bobs his head awkwardly. He wants to say something but he cannot bring himself to open his mouth to allow any words to tumble out.

Terry joins in, also placing himself in a seat next to Gardner but on the left as the right is taken. It's a tense, awkward silence until the oldest brother speaks.

"Dick, how do you feel about driving into the city today? Maybe stop by the station and let them know you're all right. I think your Barbara friend might be there with her dad today," Terry says.

Before Gardner can reply, Bruce's voice floats in from behind them. "I've already called Jim to inform him of Dick's return. He promised to breathe nothing of it until I give the okay," he says. "Today, we have more important matters to discuss in the cave today."

Alfred arrives with the breakfast. When he sets it all down, he dismisses himself, saying that he'll be taking Damian's breakfast to his room as the blood son had been adamant on not seeing Gardner's face. Bruce tells the man to pass on a message.

•••

Saturday. Wally loves Saturdays. Saturdays mean the weekend. The weekend means times to think. Time to think means distractions. Distractions means his brain will get a break.

 _Ack_.

Except, his brain isn't getting a break. Thoughts too fast and thoughts too slow swirling in his mind, matching the hurricane of emotions he's feeling. Last night had been too real, too weird, too... confusing.

Wally had snuck back in through a very difficult climb up the side of the house and into the window of his room. He's almost positive that his parents had not known he was gone but he doesn't want to leave the safe haven of his room and risk confrontation. So, he sits on his bed.

It's rather disconcerting how still he's being. It's not normal for a speedster. He doesn't care right now.

"Why did he wake up when I called him Dick?" he asks himself, frowning pensively. He runs a hand through his hair.

Maybe he's overthinking it. He had only tried to wake up Gardner twice with coaxing words before something inside of him forced Dick's name to fall out of his mouth. Third time's the charm, right? It could have been a total coincidence.

He wishes that it isn't a coincidence.

More than anything, more than ever, Wally wants his best friend back. Two years without that cackle, two years without that smirk, two years without their jokes.

Two years without Robin.

And two years without Dick Grayson.

Two long, long years without his best friend.

Wally throws his head back, groaning in pain when he makes contact with the wall. He hears a distant yell from his mother, probably about how he should be more careful and to not break the house or some stupid thing like that. He sighs, slumping.

"Maybe he lied about hacking the system for that blood test," he mumbles. "Dick always said that no one but a Bat could hack the stupid Batcave."

All this time, Wally's been telling himself that it's wishful thinking. Ever since he met Gardner, it's just been one avalanche of confusing emotions after another. Gardner is everything Dick was. Well, almost everything. There's something about him that just puts a fine line between Gardner LaRou and Dick Grayson.

They're too alike and too different and it's kind of taking its toll on Wally's mental health.

Another thing taking a toll on his mental health happens to be the cryptic words of his uncle. What exactly was he supposed to tell Dick—well, Gardner, honestly? He doesn't remember anything he's been waiting to tell his best friend. Even if he had something to say, well, he'd be saying it to Gardner, not Dick.

And Artemis seems to have an idea. At least, she, too, had implied that Wally had—

Actually, she never implied anything. Nothing he recalls, at least. All he remembers are her words of " _you would never like me the way I liked you._ "

That sounds a lot like she believed that maybe Wally likes his best friend as more than a best friend. And, man, isn't that a weird thought? Him, Wallace Rudolph West, like-liking Richard John Grayson. What a laugh, what a riot.

He doesn't like Dick that way.

•••

Donning the suit, Bruce walks through the zeta, silently brooding as it recognizes him and teleports him to the Watchtower.

Dinah is off to the side, conversing with Ollie. With his cape barely billowing behind him, he walks over. The two are quick to notice his presence and are immediately on guard.

"Is something wrong?" Ollie asks, raising his brows. "You'd think that you'd be at home with your—"

Bruce gives him a silencing glare before turning to Dinah. She's smirking slightly at how fast Ollie had shut up under the influence of the trademark Bat Glare. "Need anything?" she asks.

"Robin may be coming out of his retirement," Bruce says, choosing his words carefully. He doesn't miss the incredulous eyes coming from the archer. "I'd like for you to act as his therapist. He's been through some things these past two years."

"At the Cave?" Dinah asks, holding up a finger to Ollie's lips before the man can interrupt.

Shaking his head, Bruce says, "I'll grant you access to the Bat Cave. In order to help him, you'll need to know the full story."

She nods curtly. "I'll be free by noon on Monday. That good?"

Saying nothing, Bruce simply turns back around. He gives the both of them a warning to keep quiet because he can't help but have some doubts. Before he makes it to the zeta, he feels a hand on his shoulder. It's Ollie and he's looking at Bruce with wide eyes.

"He's back?" Ollie mouths, knowing better than to say anything out loud.

Entering the zeta, Bruce says nothing. He turns around and gives one final nod before he's back in the Batcave.

•••

"You— _what_?"

Tim breathes through his nose, trying not to yell too badly. Bruce looks over at him. "Dick needs to talk to someone and sort out what's happened since he went missing."

"He can talk with _us_ ," Tim retorts. "We're his family, Bruce. He's finally back and we need to be there for him."

"Dinah is—"

"— _not_ us. She's not Batman. She's not Bruce Wayne. Dick needs _us_. Us as in you, me, Terry, Jason, and Damian."

* * *

Okay. I lied. THIS is the last chapter. At least, for the remainder of the week. Screw studying. Bad habits, I know, but I am so stressed and writing this has calmed my nerves a lil bit. Just... I need all the luck I can get tomorrow. :)

So, yes, here's a chapter. I hope it's okay. There's probably a ton of errors but I have a killer headache and can't be bothered to correct them right now. :/

Btw, the first section is the real Gardner's POV.

Have a nice day! :)


	18. Chapter 18

"Hello, how ya been?" says the cheerful brunet that is the real Gardner LaRou. He watches the shop's door swing to a close behind this redhead and the little ding-a-ling goes almost unnoticed. He had been typing up a section of a five page essay on his phone that he has due the next day that he definitely had not been procrastinating on.

The male looks to be about seventeen, maybe a fresh eighteen. He looks around, looking a little surprised at the lack of customers despite it being the weekend. Then, he shrugs. "Nothing much. What's on the menu today?"

"Today's special would be the Forbidden Fruit Sandwich with a lil' side dish of cinnamon apples or oatmeal. Kinda on the breakfast-y side, I know, but it's delicious."

"I'll have that then with both side dishes if I can."

Gardner bobs his head, conveying a bright smile. He isn't usually this nice to customers but anyone who inadvertently helps him procrastinate on writing a thesis is a star in his books. He's about to turn around to begin the orders when the boy speaks.

"Wait, what does your name tag say?" he asks with his eyes comically wide.

The brunet raises his brows. "Er... it should say Gardner LaRou unless I grabbed the wrong apron."

"Gardner LaRou," repeats the boy with hair the color of flaming embers and sunset evenings. "That's your name? Gardner LaRou?"

All right, now Gardner has to furrow his brows in confusion. He nods his head slowly. "Yeah," he says. "It is. Does it offend you or something? Is my name tag crooked?"

Shaking his own head slowly, the freckled boy says, "No, no. It's just the Gardner LaRou who works here that I know has black hair and blue eyes and definitely shorter than you. You're clearly not him."

Right. Right, right, right. It takes Gardner a few seconds to be able to vaguely recalls his ex-coworker's words. Something about how, if anyone asked, the black-haired boy really was Gardner LaRou. Right now, however, it was too late to back out and play it off as a joke or mistake.

Hopefully, Gardner thinks, this stranger can be persuaded to forget about this and leave.

As bad as he is with them, Gardner wants to think that he's more than capable of keeping at least one promise. Yeah, just one.

"Look, whoever you are, I'm really not at liberty to discuss this right now," Gardner mutters under his breath, narrowing his eyes sullenly.

"Later, then," says the boy. "My name's Wally—Wally West. Look, it's really important that you tell me. Please."

"I don't know, kid, I promised him that I—"

Wally narrows his eyes suspiciously; they glow a flaming spring green, burning into Gardner's mind. "He's hiding something, isn't he? What's his real name?"

•••

"Dick, there's... there's going to be someone coming over in a few days to check up on you."

Raising his brows, Gardner moves to a sitting position on the couch he had been laying on for the past half hour. He sees Tim in the doorway, biting his lip as he leaned against the solid wood. The older boy says nothing, waiting for the younger one to respond.

"A visitor?" Gardner asks, frowning. "It's not a doctor, is it? I feel perfectly fine."

"Oh, it's a doctor of sorts, I guess," Tim says, giving him a half-smile. "Though, I'm not too sure if she has a degree. She used to hold counseling sessions when you were on the Team."

Blue eyes light up in recognition. "Black Canary?" he asks before he can stop himself.

Tim nods, moving closer so he can sit on the end of the couch. "She's going to be here at some point in the afternoon on Monday. I thought I'd tell you now so you can get ready."

"Wait, she's coming here? Bat Cave here or Wayne Manor here?" Gardner inquires. He furrows his brows. "Did Bruce decide to...?"

"Ol' man decided that she needs the full shebang if she wants to be able to help you," came Jason's disembodied voice. One quick look around reveals the male to be entering from the opposite doorway Tim had come through. He scoffs. "I think it's bull. We don't need anyone to help us with this shit."

"Jason, as much as I agree with you, it's Bruce's call when it comes down to it."

The anti-hero rolls his eyes, scowling. "Every damn thing is Bruce's call, huh."

Gardner sighs through his nose. Abruptly, he stands and looks back and forth between the both of them. "Get gruntled, guys," he says in an exasperated voice. "I'm going to my room. Alone, please."

With that, Gardner heads out of the room and his footsteps can barely be heard jogging up the stairs. None of the two boys left say a thing. Then, Tim can suppress the foul words about to come out of his mouth but he does nothing to conceal his glare directed at Jason.

"You're such a child sometimes," Tim points out. "I want Dick's transition back into this family to be as smooth as possible. I don't care if you have any unsolved issues with Bruce or anyone else but so help me if you make Dick feel inferior."

With one green eye twitching, Jason claps back with, "How the hell would I be making him feel inferior? If anything, it's Bruce. Goldie hasn't had the chance to make a decision for himself ever since he got back." He turns on his heel. Peering over his shoulder, he casts Tim an annoyed look. "Besides, can we even call ourselves a family?"

Tim has nothing to say when he finds himself as the last remaining person in this room. He shakes his head and gets up. Supposing that things could be worse, he decides to head upstairs to his own room. Maybe he'll check up on the boy who came back home. Who knows.

He leaves.

•••

Gardner picks at the food on his plate. It's some Austrian dish, apparently, and as appetizing as it looks, he finds that he isn't very hungry. He sits there, staring at his plate.

It just doesn't feel right. This whole arrangement. It's too disconcerting for him and he doesn't know how to feel. Well, he knows to feel anything but content what with the discomfort.

He looks up when he hears Bruce clear his throat. "Dick," says the man. "I just wanted to let you know that—"

"Black Canary is going to be my own personal therapist here? Yeah, I heard." He spares a sideways glance at Tim. "Tim told me."

"I see," Bruce says.

Tim gives the table a tight-lipped smile. "And I have something else to tell you," he says. "Well, all of you."

Everyone falls silent, looking up from their plates. Even Damian, who had joined but refused to look anywhere near Gardner, can admit he's a little intrigued. When Tim announces that he has to leave for Jump City in a day or two, no one's surprised. Though, Gardner does add in his own two cents.

"On Titan related business?" he asks, tilting his head a little like a confused puppy.

The soon-to-be-departed male nods. "Yes, actually. The Team went on a mission a while ago under my watch and something interesting had... taken place," Tim says, trying to remain vague. "If I don't take care of it soon, this could evolve into a bigger mess. My team has given me two days before they really need me back."

"Huh," Gardner says, looking back down at his plate. His eyes narrow ever-so-slightly. If he's thinking of something, he doesn't breathe one word.

Silence rolls back in like a heavy fog. It's Terry's turn to offer a tight smile. "How bad is it?"

"Nothing too bad. Just an enemy of the past," Tim replies. His eyes turn to steel and his expression grows grim. Gardner looks up curiously, uttering not a word of his silent thoughts.

•••

Now, there's a small crater in the wall of his—er, Dick's room. Gardner stares at it, observing the cracked paint and then to his hand where there's a light layer of dust and particles. His lips quirk upwards on one side.

"Sorry about that," he says to no one. Hands clapping together to get rid of the debris, Gardner spins on his heel and faces a standing photo of Dick Grayson and his first family.

Depicted on it is a smiling boy around the age of five or so with bright blue eyes surrounded by a familiar man and woman. Gardner sighs and picks it up. His own jewels burn into the photograph.

"What happened that night?" he asks, continuing to stare with empty eyes. He tears his eyes away when a knock is heard on the door. Quickly, he sets the frame back down and swallows. "Who is it?"

"It's Terry."

"Oh. Come in," he calls out. Gardner watches as the door opens, allowing Terry in. Peering in, Terry beckons for the other boy to come closer. Curiously, Gardner does so just as Terry walks in and closes the door behind himself.

Dropping his voice to a whisper, Terry says, "Wanna go out somewhere?"

Gardner's brows rise faster than hot air in a hot air balloon. He narrows his eyes ever-so-slightly. "You mean sneak out?" he whispers. His blue eyes light up. "Are you sure?"

Terry grins. "Sure I am," he says. "Look, you need a bit of fresh air after last night, 'kay? Dick, I know you don't like being trapped and if I know you, you feel pretty trapped right now."

"You're not wrong there," Gardner mutters. "Won't we get caught though? The windows have alarm systems and we can't just walk downstairs and out the door."

"Leave it to me," Terry says with a wink. "Dress up. Try not to look recognizable."

With that, Terry leaves. A plan hatches inside the dark abyss of Gardner's mind. A voice in the back of his head is telling him not to follow through with it. Obviously, he disagrees with the voice and starts finding something to wear. He goes with a hooded denim jacket in shades of grey and black with tan cargo shorts and a white tee underneath the jacket. He walks over with sneakered feet to pick up a beanie that he tucks some of his hair into and then he slides on a pair of shades.

Everything fits like a charm.

•••

"Dick, what the _hell_ did you do?"

"It was an _accident_."

* * *

So, here's that chapter I promised y'all in _Trouvaille_. If you haven't already, you should check it out. ;)

I sincerely apologize for the length. It's a bit short and poorly written because I had terrible writer's block and barely any time to write what with school and all. :/ The next chapter may take a while. I've been stressing out about my grades since first quarter ends soon and report cards are distributed before break next month. Gah. I have all As and two Bs so far but my test and essay grades may change that. I know, I'm sorry, I'm probably being whiny but my parents are so strict about my grades and they make me even more strict about my grades.

Please consider dropping a review. They really make my day.

Anywho, I've been through a lot these past few weeks. :/ Hopefully I can get a chapter up soon. If I can't, I am so sorry about that. School is so much more stressful than I thought.

Oh, so, Tim's going back to Jump. Nothing too important going on there as that's still dealing with the sequel I may or may not write.

I have a few new story ideas. Someone help me.

Have a lovely day! :)


	19. Chapter 19

Leaning against the tiled wall just outside of the public bathroom, Gardner props a foot up on the wall and whips out the phone Terry doesn't know he has. Quickly, he sends off two texts before taking his SIM card out and burying the phone in a nearby trashcan. Feigning innocence, he pockets the small bit of technology and looks over at some signs posted on the wall.

"Sorry I took so long. The damn hand dryer wouldn't work for a while," Terry says as he emerges from the restroom. He rubs his hands on the fabric of his jeans. "So, where to next?"

"I'm a bit hungry," Gardner lies, giving the older male a crooked smile. "Anywhere's fine with me."

"Well, I'm in the mood for a good ol' pretzel. Let's go!" Terry exclaims in a hushed voice, adjusting his hat. He nods in another direction and they head off.

Currently, they're at the shopping mall. It had taken a bit of walking and time to hail a taxi, as Terry hadn't arrived to the manor in his own car and taking one of Bruce's would arouse suspicion. None of them had said a thing to any other occupant of the house but it's more than likely that Alfred already knows of their absence.

As Gardner trails behind, his lips quirk upwards at one corner. No, there's no evil plan forming in his head. Just a little bit of mischief making, that's all. Then, like a bullet ripping through the air, he's hit with something.

Not literally, though. It's more like a sudden realization that he'd rather not dwell on. So, he chooses to smile softly.

A few minutes later, as they stand in line, Gardner grasps Terry's wrist.

"Hey, Terry?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

•••

Terry panics, pulling Gardner's arm and dragging the younger male into an alleyway. Ducking down behind a dumpster, the two of them let out twin sighs of relief before holding their breaths. The two share a look before peering out from behind their hiding spots.

It seems that maybe the disguises weren't good enough. One minute, both boys had been sitting on a bench eating pretzels and making up stories about the lives of the passers-by. Then, the next, there's cameras flashing in their faces and people asking when Richard Grayson had gotten back and where had he been.

In a moment of anger, Terry turns to Gardner and flashes an annoyed glare.

"Dick, what the _hell_ did you do?"

"It was an _accident._ "

Dragging a hand down his face, Terry rises to his feet. Gardner looks up at him and then mirrors his actions. The younger of the two sighs and bites his lip.

"I don't know what happened. Regardless, it was an accident, I swear."

"It's fine," Terry says in a low voice. "I'm sorry about snapping. We should head home."

Quietly, Gardner says, "Home?"

"The manor, I mean."

•••

Meanwhile, Damian is well aware of the fact that two boys had just snuck out of Wayne Manor. He, of course, had done nothing to stop it. He doesn't need to as some bad karma will target the two sooner or later.

Instead, he chooses to find Jason. He's almost positive that the anti-hero of sorts is in kahoots with the must-be impostor. He runs into Tim as the Titan has yet to leave.

"Looking for something?" Tim asks, observing the older boy with a look of slight disdain.

"Some _one,_ actually," Damian replies. "Have you seen Todd anywhere? I wish to speak with him."

"He was headed toward Dick's room," Tim says.

Damian snorts. He really doesn't believe that the once-dead brother of his would willingly hang out with Grayson. It's just another reason to back-up his impostor theory. "You're useful for something, Drake," he says. "If you wish to be of better use, perhaps you'll fetch McGinnis and the impostor before the press gets to them."

Tim pauses, furrowing his brows. "Excuse me?"

"You hadn't noticed? The two snuck out a while ago. Figures. You're just as incompetent as Todd."

Without saying anything, the other man brushes past Damian and all but flies down the stairs. Now, Damian can have a bit of a one-on-one confrontation with Jason. Hopefully, he'll get the answers he wants.

So, he heads off towards Dick's room.

When he reaches his destination, he's pulled inside and shoved back. Jason shuts the door and locks it behind him before eyeing him with a hint of annoyance.

"What is the meaning of this?" Damian barks, scowling.

"Goldie wanted me to tell you something," replies Jason with a shrug. He leans against the door, cool and composed.

"The impostor, you mean?"

A groan escapes the other male's lips. "He's not an impostor, Damian," Jason retorts, rolling his eyes. "It's not what you think."

Narrowing his eyes, Damian huffs. He challenges Jason to prove otherwise, and, for once, allowing the other to explain whatever it is he must explain. So, that's what Jason does.

"It's a long story. Maybe you should sit your pompous ass down and listen. Think you can do that, _Dami_?"

Before the blood son can reply, Jason jumps into his explanation.

•••

" _He just showed up one day, claiming to be a kid by the name of Dan Degnar! I swear, dude, I have no idea if that's his real name or not but he's got a digital diploma and an I.D. so we couldn't not hire him. He's a good kid, all right?"_

Wally barely suppresses a groan as he buried himself deeper in his bed, if possible. He didn't get anything useful out of the real Gardner LaRou. The fact that the employee had no idea of not-Gardner's real name did nothing to quench Wally's idea of the doppelgänger actually being his best friend.

He sits up after a while and sighs.

Yes, he really does want his best friend back but... if not-Gardner is Dick, why didn't he say something? Anything? It's been two years and he just wants some answers.

The hungry teen manages to get out of bed for a snack. He'll think better with a full stomach. And, maybe, he'll think up a way to confront not-Gardner.

Apparently, his (not) moping had messed with his senses or something. He hadn't heard his uncle come in so seeing the man at the kitchen table with his parents was a bit of a surprise.

"Uncle B!" Wally yells, managing a grin. "When did you get here?"

Barry raises his brows. "I thought you'd be at the manor?"

Swiftly, a look of distress appears on Wally's face. "Something happened. I needed time to think."

"Oh?" Barry looks partially intrigued and worried. So, he excuses himself from his fellow adults and gets up. He quickly swings an arm around Wally's shoulders. "What's up, kid?"

"It's a long story."

"I got all day, kid."

•••

Because Barry must be part wizard, the truth had been stolen from Wally and revealed to the older man. Somehow, Barry managed to get Wally to spill everything. Everything. From that fated night in the café to the reveal of Gardner really being not-Gardner and someone going by the name of Dan Degnar, which sounds totally fake if one were to ask him.

Surprisingly, the man had taken it well enough.

"Look, Wally, I'm almost certain that that was Dick that Bruce brought home," Barry says, leaning back.

Caught off guard by that declaration, Wally looks over at his uncle with curious eyes. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Barry says with a definite nod. "I've known the kid since he was, what, eight? Nine? So had Bruce and all of Dick's brothers. I would know that kid anywhere by now and I'm sure he has a good reason for lying to you."

"Seriously."

Barry throws his head back, laughing. After a few seconds of guffaws and cackles, he says, "Do I really have to say it again? Just talk to him. If it's any consolation, you can't fool a guy like Bruce. If he thinks it's Dick then it has to be."

"And if he's not?"

"Don't think about it. Trust me. More importantly, trust you."

•••

Gardner really doesn't like pickles. He doesn't like eating them or being in one.

He really likes it when someone comes to his rescue. Like Tim. Tim had arrived in a rather inconspicuous car, throwing one of the doors open and yelling at Gardner and Terry to get in and buckle up.

"Are you mad?" Gardner asks.

"Mad? No. Disappointed? Yes," Tim answers in a stiff voice. He glances at Gardner using the rear view mirror. "What were you two thinking?"

"It was my idea, Tim," Terry confesses. "Dick needed to breathe some city air, not the manor's."

Tim resists the urge to facepalm. He kind of has to focus on the traffic and avoiding any of the press and paparazzi. "You didn't think to tell anyone? Dick's return is supposed to be on the down-low until Bruce can figure something out. Or until Dick can figure out exactly what happened to him and how he ended up where he did instead of coming back home."

Terry manages to laugh a little. "I know, Tim, but who knows how long that will take? Besides, it was only a few pictures."

"I don't know, Terry," Gardner pipes up. "The situation wasn't astrous at all. Somehow, the press was alerted. That doesn't bode too well, does it?"

Tim freezes in his seat. He turns briefly to look at the both of them before focusing his gaze onto the road. "You two kept your so-called disguises on the entire time, right? It took me a moment to recognize you but I don't think anyone else would've been able to deduce your identities like I had."

Gardner hums. "You don't think someone was watching us and tipped off the press, right?"

"Well, if that's the case, then... shit."

"Language, Terry."

•••

"What do you think this is, Todd? A game?"

"Isn't it?" Then, he shrugs. "Actually, more like an art if you ask me. The art of deception. That's what it is."

* * *

Gah. This... this was so hard to write. A lot of it must feel forced. That's cuz it was. I wanted to fulfill my promise of updating during my break.

So... school is hella stressful. I, as a high school freshman with four honors classes, have managed to get all A's last quarter. Anywho, I pray that my English grade doesn't suffer. Weighted grades suck. I have a project worth a lot of points and it seems that all responsibility has fallen onto me to complete it by Tuesday. Send help.

A lot of stuff went down in this chapter. I guess you can consider it the climax moment. Or maybe it's still an uphill climb from here.

Please review. I'm an attention-starved angsty teenager looking to feel good about herself. :)) All the reviews last chapter were greatly appreciated, as were the ones from the beginnings of this fic. My inspiration had been running dry but a few reviews managed to motivate me a bit.

Anywho, I hope you guys had a lovely day. An update for Trouvaille should be up within the next half hour.

Oh yeah, so, next month. December. It's my month of birth. I'll be getting a new laptop to replace the one I broke months ago. Thank golly too as I didn't realize how many projects I'd need to do online. My brother's getting hella annoyed with me using his computer.


	20. Chapter 20

" _So, where are you going?" Tim asks, raising his brows. "It's a little late, don't you think?"_

 _Bruce looks at his son. "I'm going to the juvenile center. There's someone waiting for me."_

 _Eyes lit up like Cheshire's, the curious man picks up the jacket he's thrown over a chair. He slips it on quickly. "You didn't pick up another reckless twelve-year-old, did you?"_

 _The billionaire goes silent. He can tell what Tim is trying to say. The two stare at each other before Bruce shakes his head and looks away. He clears his throat._

" _He's six. He lost his parents. The funeral is tomorrow and I'm taking him."_

" _To the funeral or into this family?"_

" _A bit of both. I'm not going to legally adopt him—not like I did you or the other boys. I'm not going to try to replace what he had lost."_

•••

No one's said anything about the uncalled-for excursion that took place earlier that day but by the way Bruce is glaring at his food, it's obvious the man knows. No one dares to try and explain the reasoning. No one says any of their suspicions.

"Well, I think I'm done with dinner," Gardner says, pushing his half-empty plate forward. "I'm going to my room."

"Grayson, a word with you," Damian says, pretending to tack on a question mark to the end of that sentence. Gardner raises his brows but he nods anyway. Immediately, Damian rises.

The two of them leave the room and begin a silent trek up to their intended destination. As soon as the room is reached and breached, Damian locks the door behind himself, trapping him and Gardner. Then, he narrows his eyes coolly at the smaller male.

Tense. The atmosphere grows more and more tense with each passing second. The two engage in a staring contest. It's only seconds later that the blood son pipes up.

"There's a story my grandfather told me," Damian says, piercing green eyes waiting to gauge the expression of the blue-eyed boy. "It was about a sheep pretending to be a wolf—"

"Okay and?"

"—pretending to be a sheep," Damian finishes. He smirks and turns around so his back is to the younger male. "You know, Grayson, I'm... not unhappy that you're back now."

Gardner raises his brows. "And I'm not unhappy that I'm back," he says, turning around as well. "See you later, Dami."

"Tt."

With that, Damian unlocks the door and leaves. It closes with nothing but a little echo in its wake. Then, Gardner lets out a bark of harsh laughter. As soon as he stop, which is around five seconds later, he falls to his knees and a hand wraps itself as best it can around his throat.

•••

The blood son decides that the best course of action now is to go downstairs. He wants another look at the blood sample that his father had taken not too long ago from the youngest occupant of the house. He just wants to be certain.

He sits himself down in the seat, pulling up the results. It's reassuring, that's for sure. He leans forward to hit a few keys. Another examination is initiated. He doesn't know what he's expecting.

What he gets, however, sends jolts of panic through his system.

Green eyes widen slightly, running over and over the results. He stands and whips out his phone. He won't bother going back up.

"Father."

" _Damian._ "

"I suggest that you hurry downstairs. Do _not_ bring Grayson."

He hangs up and waits for his father to arrive. Meanwhile, he's scrolling through the new analysis. Well, it's not new, it just delves deeper and has more information on the blood.

But the thing is, this is nothing he hasn't seen before. The concerning part?

Just how long has this been there?

•••

Before a week can even pass, Bruce finds himself hounded every time he exits his work building. Microphones and cameras are thrust into his face. He's used to it and manages to evade any and every question they throw at him.

He is not, however, used to Barbara somehow appearing in his car. Seeing her pop up in the backseat was a surprise, even for the Batman. He doesn't show any signs of fear or surprise as he starts the car. Bruce doesn't even bother asking her anything.

Making a mental note to drive to the station first, he backs out of his spot and drives on.

"Dick's back," she says. "That's what the news is saying, anyway."

"He is," Brice replies. He eases down on the brake so that he can slow to a smooth stop. The light ahead is red and by now he knows that that light stays red for at least six seconds, which have not yet passed.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't _he_ tell me? You told Dad but not me!"

Bruce sighs through his nose and then begins his release and pushes down on the gas pedal. "I didn't want to throw him back into the spotlight just as he returned. There's a few issues that must be resolved before he can be reintroduced to the public."

"Issues?"

"Something happened the night he went missing and there's more than likely to be foul play involved. And he was, in fact, not supposed to be recognized on the unauthorized trip he made to the city. Someone purposefully revealed to the press that Dick was back."

Barbara purses her lips. Then, she huffs and falls back against her seat. She knows the windows are heavily tinted but that doesn't stop her from playing it safe and buckling her seatbelt. "When can I see him? He's my best friend."

"Not anytime soon," he answers. "There are a few medical issues that need to be resolved."

"Medical?" she repeats, her voice taking on dubious undertones. "He never had any medical issues."

"It's nothing you need to concern yourself with."

She frowns. Her lip curls downwards immensely. Boiling eyes narrow at the man through the rear view mirror. "If it concerns Dick then it concerns me."

Bruce says nothing. And, for a while, the trip consists of her glaring at him through the mirror and him making offhand comments about the goings-on happening in the streets of their tragic city.

"You know," he says, "I'm impressed you managed to get into my car without the alarms sounding."

"Call it a gift," she says in a dry voice. "I'm going to apologize though. Regardless, it's still illegal even if I didn't have malicious intent. Dad's going to be pissed either way when he finds out that I broke into your car."

A few minutes later, Bruce is making the turn into the police station. He unlocks her door and she hops out. Before she closes it, she tells him a message that she hopes will be passed on for her friend.

He makes a promise to deliver it.

•••

Gardner likes games. He likes those mind-boggling, twisting ones that seldom make sense. It's no surprise, really, as he plays one constantly. It's called Life and he's a master at it.

At this point, he has no idea why the game is still going but he's too far in too quit now. Too many questions will be asked if he stops. He can't. The rules don't make sense nor does the gameplay but does it even matter at this point?

The aim of the game is still the same.

Gardner likes games like that.

The gameplay, albeit confusing, is rather great for deception. Deceit. Lies. What is and what isn't truth. Emissions. Questions. Twists. Ploys. The works. It's all here, all now.

"What are you smiling about?"

He reels back, blinking in a daze. Blue eyes focus on the new arrival. He smiles a bit awkwardly. "Just thinking," he says.

"Uh-huh. Well, I'm back. Wanna play some video games?"

Gardner nods. "Sure. So, Wally, what brings you back here?"

"Just thinking," the other boy replies with a grin. Gardner raises his brows but he says nothing. Instead, the younger boy beckons for the redhead to follow. The two of them disappear in Dick's room. The gaming system is booted up once more.

After a while, in the middle of Gardner kicking Wally's ass, the older boy says, "You know, I really hate these kinds of games."

"Really?" he asks, smiling at his companion with hair of sunset evenings. "I happen to love them."

"Of course you would."

* * *

Heyheyhey! Guess what? It's my day of birth! I'm finally 15. :P And, I may be getting my laptop tomorrow or Sunday. I'm very excited and thankful.

So. Medical issues. I wonder what those could be. :0 And what is up with Damian?

I'm on the mock trial team and my first competition is January 4th. I'm extremely nervous. I'm acting as a witness and gah. It's so out of my comfort zone but I want to do this so bad.

To those wondering, yes. The anagram pseudoname was intentional. :P My sincerest apologies for the shorter length with the this chapter.

Anywho, I gotta jet. Have a lovely day! Happy Hanukkah to those who celebrate! :) I hope you lovely humans have a safe holiday, regardless of whether you celebrate anything or not.


	21. Announcement

It's been a minute since I've last used FFN and I seem to have forgotten how it works. Oh dear.

Anyway, I'm trying to reinsert myself into the YJ fandom as I'm running into writer's block and thought it would be a welcomed change.

As such, I chose to revive this story. I'm working on rewriting it and will hopefully have the first chapter up on ao3 under **astorii** by January 1st.

I just wanted to let everyone know! If you're still willing to read this story, please consider keeping an eye out on ao3. :)

That being said, happy holidays and have a lovely day!

xx


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